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HIPPODROME AT OLYMPIA. RAPID ACT SKETCH. By Our Electro-Lightning Artist.

IN THE FIRST OLYMPIAD. THERE has not been seen in London, within the recollection of anyone under thirty, anything equal to the Hippodrome performances now daily and nightly going on at Olympia. It does not enter into rivalry with a circus entertainment. The comic business is confined to the acrobatic and pantomimic actions of two twin Drolls, who may be termed the Hippodromios, and then the donkey and his master are highly amusing. The race of unridden steeds is a very pretty thing to see, and as regards all these races, if the same horses always run, it is highly probable that the result is invariable, and a sharp frequenter of Olympia might do a good bit of business with casual visitors.

The Roman Games are a feature, though the Roman Feature itself is conspicuous by its absence. The chariot-racing is very exciting.

During an interval of twenty minutes, which might be shortened with advantage, the servants set up an extensive country scene, composed of pieces representing a mill, capable of holding a fullgrown family of six, a bridge that would bear a regiment, a stream of painted canvas, trees, hedges, gates, a forge, tables and chairs, all suggestive of having come out of a box of Christmas toys for

ordinarily consistent with good breeding, and who, when specially aggravated by things going contrary, expresses her disgust with everybody by throwing sommersaults and behaving generally in such a way as we should have thought would have disgusted any youthful aspirant for her daughter's hand, with the prospect of saddling himself for life with so undesirable and extraordinary a mother-in-law. However, he is madly in love, and the sporting gentleman pleads his cause and he is married, and everyone connected with the Hippodrome drives to the wedding and witnesses a dance between the newly married couple. In these festivities there is a wonderful doll, well worth seeing. Oh, what a surprise!"

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Then comes the stag-hunt; ladies and gentlemen, well mounted, jump the gates and hedges, race over the bridge, one lady clearing a table and bottles, and, the dogs having gone after the stag, the stag at last, apparently, goes to the dogs. Capital afternoon entertainment for boys home from the Classics during the present Olympiad.

TURNING OVER NEW LEAVES.
(By Our Own Paper-Knifer.)

SPIDERS of Society (F. V. WHITE & Co.), according to Miss FLOGiant's children, and of their having been laid out here in this RENCE MARRYAT, are mostly women, and men are the flies that are picturesque fashion-quite a hamlet-for the Brobdingnagian infants victimised in the webs they weave around them. The writer of this to come and play with them. No Giants appear, but there is a ballet novel being of the fair sex, it is absolutely impossible that she could of action, from which it appears that a young peasant is deeply say anything unfair of her sisters. A woman's thoughts about enamoured of the Maid of the Mill, and persists in his demonstra-women are always refreshing; and though Miss MARRYAT does not tions of affection in spite of being warned off by the maiden's mother, make the mistake of putting too much bitters in her sherry, she adds an elderly lady of peculiar habits and vulgar manners, who slides just enough to give piquancy to an amusing story. Randolph Caldedown the mill-stairs, displaying more underclothing than is cott (SAMPSON Low & Co.), by HENRY BLACKBURN, is a truly

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The Rector (who conducts the Rehearsal). "SUPPOSE WE TRY THAT MOVEMENT AGAIN? I THINK, MR. FOOTLES, YOU WERE HALF A BAR BEHIND IN TAKING UP YOUR POINT. OH DEAR!-YOU'RE NOT GOING, MR. Foo

"

Mr. Footles (our Flauto Secondo, huffed). "YESSIR. 'F YOU'RE SO PERTIC'LAR'S T'ALF A BAR, I SHA'N'T JINE THE S'CIETY!!"

OUR WINTER GARDEN.

COVENT Garden, of course, and the Circus. The Clowns and the LAVATER LEE Musical Family are very droll: as also is FELIX,happy name,-especially when he is trying to catch the butterfly. Among the fair ladies of the troupe, we should be inclined to give equal prizes to Mlle. AMALIA DE RENZ in her leaping pirouette acts, and Mlle. ROSITA on a barebacked steed. But the Big Man and the clever performing Pig "Tis true, 'tis Piggy, and Piggy 'tis 'tis true!" are the hits of the Shakspeare on the Scene in C. G. Circus. entertainment. The

delightful volume. It gives an account of his early life, from the time he was in the bank at Whitchurch, to 1879. To his "picture-book career "this volume is especially dedicated. It has over one hundred and seventy illustrations-among them several from the collection of Mr. Punch-and by the study of these we are able to appreciate the wonderfully graphic power and versatility of the artist, to see what marvellous work he did, though dying before the zenith of his powers were reached. We are not surprised to note that this volume is now in its fourth edition. Wild Animals Photographed and Described is the title of a portly volume by J. FORTUNE NOTT. Its title hardly, however, gives a good notion of its contents; Our Private Zoo would perhaps be a better one. The author's descriptions are nearly as good as a visit to the Regent's Park Gardens along with FRANK BUCKLAND used to be. Our cicerone is not too learned, neither is he too superficial. He writes in a popular style, but at the same time he conveys a large amount of information in a palatable form. The illustrations, although phototype reproductions of photographic negatives, are also, on account of their artistic merit, of distinctly "pallette-able" form. Among them visitors to the Zoo will recognise capital portraits of many of their old friends. Yet another reprint of the ever-welcome work of CHARLES LAMB! This time Lamb is served up with sauce! What would C. L. have said to us for talking in this fashion? No matter! The sauce is good. It may not be mintsauce, but then it is not mint to be. The sauce is the series of excellent illustrations by C. O. MURRAY, which will prove to be a source of great pleasure to all who peruse Some Essays of Elia in their latest latter is especially, that is pig-culiarly, amusing, and where all is so form. Romances of Chivalry (T. FISHER UNWIN), by JOHN ASHTON, attractive in the Horse-Show provided by Messrs. DOUGLAS COX and convince us that there really was romance in chivalry as well as HENRY-(why didn't Cox get Box to join him ?)-this is saying a deal. chivalry in romance. The illustrations are quaintly humorous; and if the people of those days were only half so funny as they are represented, there is no doubt the human race has sadly deteriorated. Our gallant knights are dull dogs indeed compared with the merry family that gaily disported itself in days gone by.

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ILLUMINATED BY G. A. S.-His promised Autobiography.

IN PUDDING-TIME.-On Saturday, the 1st instant, the Bulgarian Deputies enjoyed, at dinner, the hospitality of the Servian ConsulGeneral in London, Mr. H. W. CHRISTMAS, who of course regaled them with substantial Christmas fare. (Pity that Government couldn't promise them a treat still more substantial.) Happy conjunction of Christmas with New Year. Prosit omen, and many Happy New Years to the brave Bulgarians!

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STUDIES FROM MR. PUNCH'S STUDIO. No. XI.-SEPTIMUS SWALLUM, THE CONFIRMED HYPOCHONDRIAC. Ir is now quite ten years ago since SEPTIMUS SWALLUM may be said, to use his own graphic language, fairly to have "broken up.' Yet he is still about. Any afternoon you may meet him being dragged towards the Park in a Bath-chair, wearing on his face that expression of aggressive scowl that seems characteristic of the blighted fraternity who usually patronise those invalid vehicles; yet if you stop him, and tell him, which is probably a fact, that you think him looking much better, he will resent it almost as an insult, and reply, with a smile of sickly sarcasm. "Am I? Well, I wish I felt so," that leaves you no courteous alternative but to express a regretful sympathy, and inquire after his symptoms. These he will catalogue to you, dwelling on their worst features almost with relish, and they certainly are sufficiently appalling. Indeed, as he is jolted out of sight in his conveyance amidst the crowd, you look after him with a feeling of wonder how, taking him at his own account, he can manage to hold together at all. Yet SEPTIMUS SWALLUM was not always thus. Ten years ago, before his "break-up," he was what he called a regular liver.

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advice. He consulted another specialist-this time fixing on one noted for his success in dealing with spinal mischief-and was treated liberally with nux vomica and strychnine, with the result that his facial muscles began to twitch convulsively, while a sudden, everpowering constriction set up simultaneously in his hands, arms, back, and legs. Then he decided that the doctors were killing him, and determined to take his case, as he put it, "into his own hands." This he did by having recourse to Patent Medicines. It was a sombre and severe experience, for in turns he tried them all! Indeed those who came across him during the progress of the experiment describe his condition at the time as apparently "much shattered." He lost flesh visibly, and by the end of a twelvemonth had come to the conclusion that drugs were even more deadly than doctors, and, in this frame of mind, stretching out his hands for succour, he had it thrust into them in the shape of an advertising pamphlet on the subject of Galvanism. He turned to it with the alacrity of despair, and forthwith invested in all the known appliances of the hidden recuperative force. He now walked about incased in belts, chainbands and batteries. He went even further.

Those who called upon him when in the full flood of this phase of his therapeutic career, would find him frequently seated on a metallic plate, holding in his right and left hand respectively the positive and negative pole of a seventeen-guinea battery that was simmering on a table before him. Three months of this, however, "took it out" of him, and he became hysterical, and in this condition he fell into the willing hands of the proprietor of a great Hydropathic Sanitorium.

"You are poisoned with drugs, Sir," remarked the enterprising proprietor, heartily, "but we must eliminate them from the system, and so saying he instantly "packed" SEPTIMUS SWALLUM up in a damp sheet. The result of this "treatment" was, that after three months of it, he found himself so feeble that it was with a positive effort he broke away from it, scarcely able to hobble to the fly that took him to the station.

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"Eliminate poison from the system, indeed!" he cried, threatening the proprietor of the establishment with exposure as he left; "why, you have eliminated nothing but my strength; but you have added chronic rheumatism to my other symptoms with your confounded "I can't put my finger on anything in my present mode of life," cold water. You ought to be prosecuted." And so fuming he he said, addressing the eminent practitioner whom he first consulted dragged himself up to town, where he sought relief from the mischief as to his state of health at the time, "to account in the least for my induced at the Sanatorium, for a short time, in a system of Scandiexisting symptoms." He had been describing an overwhelming navian Massage, that he however soon abandoned, declaring that it sense of lassitude that oppressed him in the morning, coupled with a only aggravated his pains, and made matters ten times worse, and sensation as if the ground were swaying under his feet as he walked from this period he may be said slowly but surely to have descended home at night, together with a tendency to see two of everything-the remedial ladder, clutching wildly at and giving a temporary trial two doors, two windows, two shaving-glasses, two sets of fire-irons, first to this nostrum then to that, suggested in turn by officiously and two newspapers, accompanied by a sharp pang something between advising friends. a kick and a stab in his back. And yet," he continued, "I'm a A broken-down, battered, nervous, dyspeptic individual-such moderate man, and very careful about my food. I dine out a good is SEPTIMUS SWALLUM at present; and it is not easy to say what deal, and am what you may call a hearty feeder, and I mix my wines possible further downward developments await his shattered conpretty freely, and I'm fond of nuts, but I don't overdo it. Then in stitution. It is true he still has the experience of the famous the course of the day I may take an occasional 'nip' as a pick-me-up, German and other Continental Spas open to him; but such is his and I generally finish up with a 'nightcap' when I go to bed, but I'm terror of damp beds and draughts, and so strong is his disinclination confident I don't do anything to put me out of order in this fashion." to move out of his own arm-chair, and away from his own fireside, The eminent practitioner listened attentively, and giving his that he is not likely, except in a state of coma, to try the experiment, patient a prescription, in which the chief ingredient was a combina- and be found whisking away in some foreign express, even though tion of potassium, and enjoining on him a daily diet of two under-propped up by india-rubber hot-water bottles, and supported by done mutton-chops, and half a wine-glass of claret, took his two- continuous "nips" of brandy from a medicine glass. For when he guinea fee, and smilingly bowed him out. is persuaded to leave his home to pay a short visit, he carries into the house of his temporary host all the discipline and paraphernalia of a hospital, and both breakfasts and lunches in bed, sleeps in a flannel bag, and when he does appear in the drawing-room, sits apart, wrapped up in a blanket, gazing at the fire in a settled gloom, which no conversational powers of those present, be they practised with ever such skill, are able not only not to dispel but even to penetrate.

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SEPTIMUS SWALLUM tried his diet of underdone mutton-chops for three days, but finding, at the expiration of that period, that the ground swayed about under his feet more than ever, resumed his nuts, his nips, and his nightcap, and, making up his mind that something must be the matter with his head, determined to consult a famous specialist, noted for his success in treatment of obscure diseases of the brain. The interview took place, and the famous specialist, shaking his head blandly over the eminent practitioner's prescription, wrote out another, in which this time phosphorus, and not potassium, figured conspicuously. Moreover, he removed all restrictions in the matter of diet, advising a generous table," and SEPTIMUS SWALLUM left him, hopeful and satisfied. But neither his hope nor his satisfaction were destined to be of long duration. Not only was there no abatement in the old symptoms, but on the third day of the new treatment fresh and alarming ones, of a novel character, developed themselves, and SEPTIMUS SWALLUM, when sitting down, or rising from his chair, suddenly saw sundry luminous balls and stars floating about the room before his eyes. This frightened him. He expressed his opinion "that something must be very wrong with him," and the very next morning he put his case into the hands of a celebrated nerve doctor. The celebrated nerve doctor was equal to the occasion. He quietly discontinued the phosphorus, but gave him instead a powerful acid tonic that, after a dose or two, bound an iron band round SEPTIMUS SWALLUM's head, and set up a singing in his ears that nearly deafened him and robbed him entirely of all sleep. Then he grew desperate, and beat about wildly in search of fresh

TO CORRESPONDENTS.-In no case can Contributions, whether by a Stamped and Directed Envelope or Cover.

But if you manage by any chance to draw SEPTIMUS SWALLUM out of that inner contemplation of himself which is now his habitual mood, and get him to hold forth for a few minutes on any subject whatever, you will quickly find him relapse into the one congenial topic that is ever uppermost in his thoughts-his symptoms, upon which dilating for a few moments with nervous insistance, he however soon relapses into his settled and familiar gloom.

"What I go through with, nobody knows," he complains, with a melancholy wail. "I don't sleep. I don't eat. I scarcely live. I can hardly see you where you stand, or hear what you say. That has come on only lately. But it gets worse every day. Ah! if you had only to go through half that I have, you'd precious soon cry out, I can tell you!"

Very likely! Poor SEPTIMUS SWALLUM! A victim? Yes-but a victim to himself. For it seems with all his aches, and his pains, his experiences, and his treatments, he has never got out of certain old bad habits, He still sticks to his nuts, his nips, and his nightcaps, and as, whatever else he may do, to the end he will never relinquish these, he is destined, to the close of his mournful mortal days, to be known among men, to the sport of his foes, to the terror of his friends, as that recognised social incubus, a confirmed hypochondriac!

MS., Printed Matter, or Drawings, be returned, unless accompanied
Copies of MS. should be kept by the Senders.

THE CLOWN'S LAMENT.

WHAT has become of your fun and frivolity?
Where is the laughter that lifted the roof?
Gone are the highest of jinks and of jollity,
Holiday spirits are under the proof!
Where is the merriment blue devils banishing,
Sending a thrill through the heart of the town?
Gone with old friends everlastingly vanishing-
This is the weary Lament of the Clown!
Pantomime past, can we never recover it,
See it again in its glory alive?

If under down-trodden grass we discover it,
Who will have faith in the past to revive?
Is there no magic once more to restore to us
Laughter of little ones? childhood of man?
Can it be true that sweet fancy's a bore to us?
Who placed the fairy tales under a ban?,
Ah! for the days when the curtain unclosed to us
Regions of mystery, demon and sprite!
Who can forget how all Fairyland posed to us,
Some in pink tarlatane, others in white!

BUMBLE AT BAY.

SIR,-Your Correspondents, who complain of the "apathy and imbecility of all the London Vestries in dealing with the snow nuisance," can hardly be aware of the facts with regard to the parish which I have the honour to represent. The recent heavy snow-fall took place between eight and ten on a Sunday evening, and in the incredibly short space of thirty-six hours from that time my Vestry had not only met to consider what should be done, but actually exhausted themselves so much in discussing the subject that refreshments of a rather expensive character had to be supplied to them at the cost of the ratepayers! What, Sir, was the result of this public-spirited action? Why, in the course of the very next day fifteen infirm old men and an orphan lad were engaged as scavengers, attracted by the promise of the really munificent wages of one-shilling-and-sixpence for a day's work of twelve hours. Is it fair to blame the Vestry if these men proved so hopelessly inefficient that a deputation of indignant ratepayers called at the Vestry Hall, and threatened to lynch the office-boy-the only official then on the premises ? Is it just to point out that ten times the number of men ought to have been hired, or to make unfeeling allusions to the fact that all the fifteen were found drunk in the gutter, and that the orphan lad most ungratefully ran away with the wheelbarrow and spade that were supplied to him, and has not been seen since? Certainly not, at least in the opinion of SIMON SLOWCOACH,

Yours obediently,

Clerk to the Guzzlington Vestry. SIR,-The Vestry which I belong to can hardly be accused of slackness in the matter of using snow-ploughs. A timber-merchant, whose brother is on the Vestry, kindly consented to construct twenty at the low price of one hundred pounds a-piece, and the Chairman, who is himself an eminent Contractor, generously offered to supply teams of four horses for each plough, at the moderate rate of ten pounds a team per diem! Not only has all the snow in our parish been cleared away (at the cost to the ratepayers of a mere bagatelle of three thousand pounds, so far), but the ploughs were of such a powerful nature that, through some trifling error in their construction, a good deal of the wood pavement in our main thoroughfares has also been scraped up, and rendered totally unfit for traffic. The relaying of the wood will give employment to hundreds of workmen for some time to come, under the able superintendence of one of the Vestry, who happens to be Managing Director of the Patent Compressed Sawdust Paving Company, Limited.' The publication of these facts ought to put a stop to the croakings of penurious ratepayers, and show the Vestry, besides, what an admirable (and insufficiently remunerated) Surveyor they possess in Yours, TIMOTHY TAXEM. For the Vestry of the Parish of St. Jobbery's, Hanwell Square.

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SIR,-Nobody can regret more than my Vestry does the fact that the method of stacking the mingled snow and refuse of the streets in front of private houses, and leaving it there for weeks, should be a source of annoyance to the various residents in different parts of London who have written to complain on the subject. But I can assure them that in course of time they will learn to regard

Those were the times when the giant's voice stormed to us the snow-heaps as quite picturesque, and when the summer comes they will

Out of a mask of Dykwynkyn renown;

Happy the hour when the fairy transformed to us
Silly young farmer to jolly old Clown!
Then came a voice pealing out from the gallery,
"Give us, old friend, of Hot Codlins' a taste.
"Tippitiwitchet!'-it's all in your salary-

Tip us a stave, you old rascal! make haste!"
Who could be weary when slides were a-buttering?
Days of hot poker and sausage galore!

Out, neck and crop, they'd have turned a fool muttering, "Don't you think Harlequinades are a bore ?"

If it be true that mutantur our tempora,
That nos et mutamur in illis as well,

Far better to call for a halter of hemp or a
Gallows to strangle the past as a sell!
Tradition lies dead, with a pall for a covering
Of satins and silks and fantastic brocade;
But over its gorgeous bier there are hovering
Ghosts of delight that new fashion has laid!
Where is the end to this jewelled magnificence,
Gorgeous processions, and money in heaps?
Cannot a pantomime fairy's beneficence

Change it as quick as a Harlequin leaps?
Is there no hope that, remote as a star away,
A dynasty banished will rule us again?
Recalling our vanished companions from far away,

That innocent laughter may ring through the Lane!
One cheer for the past, when its perfume is tost to us!
GRIMALDI and FLEXMORE, their spirits are free;
But the soul of pure Pantomime never is lost to us,
When merry TOM MATTHEWS lives down by the sea!
So in bumpers of port that is nutty and nourishing,
Let us toast to their names and their deathless renown,
And in days when the last of the PAYNES is still flourishing,
Let us claim a reprieve for the Jolly Old Clown!

VOL. XCII.

most probably disappear. Of course, if fatal accidents happen because cabmen will drive up against these snow-heaps on dark nights, that is not the fault of the Vestry. Your Correspondent, SPLASHED FROM HEAD TO FOOT," who writes angrily about the system of "lining the roads with ramparts of sloshy snow," is evidently either a sufferer from confirmed biliousness or a disguised member of the Municipal Reform_League, and does not require any answer Yours, &c., URIAH HEEP. General Manager of the Local Authority for Spattersea.

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LAPSUS CALAMI.-A slip has been sent us as an extract from the Press News, purporting to give "recollections" concerning the "First Editorial Staff" of Punch. It is ,"indeed!-a slip of the memory of the worthy individual a slip," who compiled it, as most of the statements are absurdly inaccurate. One example will suffice,-it records how TENNIEL, MARK LEMON, DU MAURIER, DOUGLAS JERROLD, the Brothers MAYHEW, all regularly, and with them SHIRLEY BROOKS and DICKENS, and others occasionally, dined at the Sussex Head Hotel every Saturday. Well, first, these Saturday "business dinners were in the earliest days of Punch, in 1841. Secondly, Mr. TENNIEL didn't join till 1851, when these particular dinners had ceased. Thirdly, Mr. Du MAURIER, at the time he is said to have been enjoying the society of DOUGLAS JERROLD, TENNIEL (who wasn't there), and so forth, was about eight years old. Perhaps, being very precocious, he stole out of the nursery. Lastly, SHIRLEY BROOKS was not a Member of the Staff till some time afterwards. It is doubtful whether DICKENS was ever present at one of the regular "Punch business dinners"; he might, perhaps, have been there once; but "PHIZ," KNIGHT, BARHAM, HOOD, AINSWORTH, were never at these dinners, and only foregathered with the Punch men on "off" nights.

INSCRIPTION ON A STONE-"R.A."-These letters mark him as a precious stone. MARCUS was elected for his artistic merits and social qualities; that is, they wouldn't have chosen this Stone if he hadn't been a regular brick.

MRS. RAM says that at Olympia the Roman Charioteers are in classic costume, with fillets on their heads and saddles on their feet.

D

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A WINTER GARDEN.
FAT children, and food-stuffs, and holly,
The tributes of Art to his sway,
And the struggle all round to be jolly,
Have vanished with Christmas away.

But, true to the season, the weather
Has banded again with the Parks,
To start on the war-path together
For a glacial epoch of larks.
When pale snows on ice-levels glinter,
What cheer for the sun-loving souls
Who seek to escape from the winter
Unaided by skating or coals?
Though frost the broad gravel-path hardens,
The glasses are beaded with dew;
Though it's desolate out in the gardens,
There's life in the greenhouse at Kew.
Good-bye to the reign of December,

To boughs that are leafless and wet;
From the fires of the summer an ember
Keeps warm the chrysanthemums yet.
Narcissus and tulip and lily

The siege of the season abide,
While the fog-demons chubby and chilly
Throng thriftless and baffled outside.
They stand the dull atmosphere scorning,
Like beautiful captives arow,

UNWELCOME GUESTS.

By an Unwilling Host.

"Many people like to pose as 'hosts,' but not in the sense of being feasted upon by germs and parasites a sense in which the term is understood by Zoologists and Physicians."-Dr. Morrisson's "Notes on Consumption."

TRUE, genial Doctor! Curious use of terms,
To call him "host" who's feasted on by germs!
With horror it must fill us,

To think that hospitality's New Years' guests
May be nought else than parasitic pests,-
Bacterium or Bacillus.

'Tis pleasant though to know it is your practice,
Bacterium Termo or Bacterium Lactis,

(Most grateful, pray, suppose us)

Germs, gentle, harmless, that won't hurt or kill us,
To pit against that horrible Bacillus,
That's called Tuberculosus.

To those who are not up in learned tongues,
'Tis hardly nice to picture their poor lungs
A field for germ-contention.

Latinised parasites perchance to you

Have many charms; we feel we'd rather do
Without their intervention.

Still, if to such strange guests we must be "hosts,"
We trust you'll justify CANTANI's boasts,

And make them few, not many,

Nay, rather that Bacteria and Bacilli
May kill each other out, Sir, willy-nilly,
Like cats of famed Kilkenny.

"THE Benjamin Hatfield Lodge of the Original Grand Order of the Total Abstinent Sons of the Phoenix." There's a title for a Benefit Society which won't allow its members to take a little wine, even when the port is ordered by the Doctor. If the Doctor who gives such advice to one of these patients depends on his patient's Society for his money, the reply will probably be, that the sick member who broke the rules by taking a little alcoholic sip-port, was one of the sons of the "Fee-nix."

BLACK'S WHITE.-Mr. WILLIAM BLACK won an action for libel the other day, and proved that he wasn't so Black as he had been painted. He left the Court with White Wings. Why did he fash himself? his fair fame extends far beyond the sound of Bow Bells.

As white as the mists of the morning,

Or flushing like sunset on snow

The dress of a fairy of fashion,

Whose skirt a wet rainbow has swept;
The cheek of a pearl in a passion,

Whom a moonbeam has kiss'd while she
slept.

Fast-frozen the grey grass beseeches
A token of hope for the lawn
From the high-tow'ring poplars and beeches,
The wind-whisper'd watchtow'rs of dawn.
But we turn from the climate of Sweden
To breathe the perennial balm,
Where aisles like the alleys of Eden

Are arch'd by the fronds of the palm.
And silvered, unvex'd by the raw gust,
Benignant, and happy and hot,
Is lull'd by that music of August,

The clank of the watering-pot.
Where gardeners, passive and pensive,
Their leisurely labours pursue,
And tropical trunks, comprehensive,
In charity hide them from view.
Though man, more and more, with his crass
works

Profanes this sweet Goshen of trees,
Though Brentford, with whistles and gas-
works,

Claims more than its share of the breeze,

So much of the fugitive Summer
Is caught in the crystalline cage,
That the thought of sweet Spring, the new-
comer,

Makes mirth of Jack Frost and his rage.

The River, again, in the twilight

Gleams silvery grey like a dove,
And birds twitter clear in the shy light
That dawns upon April and love.

LORD DUNRAVEN is reported by the St. James's Gazette to have said to the Runcorners last week, that "he would venture to stake his head" if, in all cases in which the Union was in question, they would not find Lord RANDOLPH on the side of the Tory Government. Lord RANDOLPH is already by his own act and deed a Separatist, as he has separated himself from Lord SALISBURY'S Cabinet. But, in a difficulty, it might happen that Lord DUNRAVEN would lose his head and the ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer keep his. As to the value of the stake which Lord DUNRAVEN is prepared to lay down, we would not offer an opinion; but-will he bet sixpence?

ABSIT OMEN!-Bad title for The Onliest JONES's play at the Haymarket, Hard Hit. Suppose it shouldn't be any hit at all-might this change hit into Frost?

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