CONCLUSIVE

CONCLUSIVECONCLUSIVELodger."I detect rather a disagreeable smell in the house, Mrs. Jones. Are you sure the drains——"Welsh Landlady."Oh, it can't be the drains, sir, whatever. There are none, sir!!"

Lodger."I detect rather a disagreeable smell in the house, Mrs. Jones. Are you sure the drains——"

Welsh Landlady."Oh, it can't be the drains, sir, whatever. There are none, sir!!"

I'm seventeen stone sevenYorkshire Farmer(who has laid a wager—to gentleman on weighing machine). "Will ye tell us how mooch ye weigh, mister?"Gentleman."Well, I'm seventeen stone seven."Farmer."What did a' tell ye, lads? A' couldn't be wrang, for a's t' best joodge o' swine in t' coontry!"

Yorkshire Farmer(who has laid a wager—to gentleman on weighing machine). "Will ye tell us how mooch ye weigh, mister?"

Gentleman."Well, I'm seventeen stone seven."

Farmer."What did a' tell ye, lads? A' couldn't be wrang, for a's t' best joodge o' swine in t' coontry!"

(Depicted by a Man of Feeling)

'Tis sweet at Summer eve to rove,When brightly shines each twinkling star,And, strolling through the silent grove,Calmly to smoke a good cigar.'Tis sweet upon the flowery meadTo see the tender lambkins play,With pensive eye to watch them feed,And note how plump to roast are they.'Tis sweet the fallow deer to view,Couched 'mid the fern in tranquil group;'Tis sweet to hear the turtle's coo,And meditate on turtle soup.'Tis sweet, from cares domestic free,While wandering by the streamlet's side,The speckled trout or perch to see,And think how nice they would be, fried.'Tis sweet to mark the plover's flight,Lone on the moor, its nest despoiled;And with prospective mental sightTo contemplate its eggs, hard boiled.'Tis sweet, beside the murmuring rill,The scented violet to smell;Yet may a perfume sweeter stillAttend the welcome dinner-bell!

'Tis sweet at Summer eve to rove,When brightly shines each twinkling star,And, strolling through the silent grove,Calmly to smoke a good cigar.

'Tis sweet at Summer eve to rove,

When brightly shines each twinkling star,

And, strolling through the silent grove,

Calmly to smoke a good cigar.

'Tis sweet upon the flowery meadTo see the tender lambkins play,With pensive eye to watch them feed,And note how plump to roast are they.

'Tis sweet upon the flowery mead

To see the tender lambkins play,

With pensive eye to watch them feed,

And note how plump to roast are they.

'Tis sweet the fallow deer to view,Couched 'mid the fern in tranquil group;'Tis sweet to hear the turtle's coo,And meditate on turtle soup.

'Tis sweet the fallow deer to view,

Couched 'mid the fern in tranquil group;

'Tis sweet to hear the turtle's coo,

And meditate on turtle soup.

'Tis sweet, from cares domestic free,While wandering by the streamlet's side,The speckled trout or perch to see,And think how nice they would be, fried.

'Tis sweet, from cares domestic free,

While wandering by the streamlet's side,

The speckled trout or perch to see,

And think how nice they would be, fried.

'Tis sweet to mark the plover's flight,Lone on the moor, its nest despoiled;And with prospective mental sightTo contemplate its eggs, hard boiled.

'Tis sweet to mark the plover's flight,

Lone on the moor, its nest despoiled;

And with prospective mental sight

To contemplate its eggs, hard boiled.

'Tis sweet, beside the murmuring rill,The scented violet to smell;Yet may a perfume sweeter stillAttend the welcome dinner-bell!

'Tis sweet, beside the murmuring rill,

The scented violet to smell;

Yet may a perfume sweeter still

Attend the welcome dinner-bell!

Country in the FutureThe Country in the Future.—Retired Citizen(to Metropolitan Friend). "What I enjoy so much in the country is the quiet! Now here, in my garden, my boy, you don't hear a sound, 'cepting the trains!!"

The Country in the Future.—Retired Citizen(to Metropolitan Friend). "What I enjoy so much in the country is the quiet! Now here, in my garden, my boy, you don't hear a sound, 'cepting the trains!!"

Friends in Council.—Tom Lothbury(to Jack Billiter, who has "come in" to a nice little estate in Surrey, whereunto he intends retiring and rusticating). "You'll keep cows, I s'pose, and all that sort of thing?"

Jack."Oh, no, can't bear milk."

Tom(who has a taste for the rural). "Cocks and hens, then?"

Jack."No, hate eggs and puddings and all that!"

Tom."Nor yet sheep?"

Jack."Eh, ah! Oh, yes; I'll have a sheep, I'm vewy fond of kidneys for bweakfast!"

Query.—If you give two persons a seat in a cornfield, can this proceeding be called "setting them by the ears"?

Simple, but Agricultural.—Q.What is the best time for sowing tares?

A.When the landlord goes round and collects hisrents.

Fox's Martyrs.—Ducks, fowls, turkeys, and geese.

did you take those pillsDoctor."Well, Matthew, did you take those pills I sent you yesterday?"Patient."Yes, doctor; but couldn't 'e do 'em up in something different? They little boxes be terrible hard to swallow!"

Doctor."Well, Matthew, did you take those pills I sent you yesterday?"

Patient."Yes, doctor; but couldn't 'e do 'em up in something different? They little boxes be terrible hard to swallow!"

On the way to the Manse.—Deacon MacTavish(toDeacon MacBrose, after visiting several hospitable houses on their way). Hoot, mon Donald, yonder's the Meenister! Noo, I'll joost tek a few paces afore ye, in that ye may say gin my puir tired legs don't tremble.

Deacon MacBrose.Gae forrard, Sandy, gae forrard!

Deacon MacTavish(after stumbling ahead for several yards). Weel, Donald, hoo gae they?

Deacon MacBrose.Richt bonnily, Sandy, richt bonnily. But wha's the mon that's walking beside ye?

From the Mining Districts.—(Young Curate finds a Miner sitting on a gate smoking.)—Curate(desirous to ingratiate himself with one of his flock). A fine morning, my friend.

One of his flock gives the slightest nod, and a grunt, and spits.

Curate(supposing that he had not been heard). A fine morning, my good friend.

One of his flock.Did I say it warn't. Do you want to hargue, you beggar?

brought to this by your wife?Lady."And you say you have been brought to this by your wife?"Tramp."Yuss, lidy. I got 'er three good jobs, and 'er bloomin' independence lorst 'er the lot of 'em!"

Lady."And you say you have been brought to this by your wife?"

Tramp."Yuss, lidy. I got 'er three good jobs, and 'er bloomin' independence lorst 'er the lot of 'em!"

Guests arriving for dinnerScene—The Hall of a Country House. Guests arriving for dinner.Perkins(the extra man who is had in to help at most dinners given in the neighbourhood—confidentially but audibly). "Good evening, Miss Waters. There's some of that nice pudding here to-night, what last time you took twice of!"

Scene—The Hall of a Country House. Guests arriving for dinner.

Perkins(the extra man who is had in to help at most dinners given in the neighbourhood—confidentially but audibly). "Good evening, Miss Waters. There's some of that nice pudding here to-night, what last time you took twice of!"

many painful cases of wife-beatingThe Bishop of Lichbury."Really, it's very shocking to read in the papers so many painful cases of wife-beating and assault among the labouring classes!"The Rev. Mr. Simmiel."It is indeed, my lord. Indeed—ahem—with your lordship's permission, one might almost call thembelabouring classes."

The Bishop of Lichbury."Really, it's very shocking to read in the papers so many painful cases of wife-beating and assault among the labouring classes!"

The Rev. Mr. Simmiel."It is indeed, my lord. Indeed—ahem—with your lordship's permission, one might almost call thembelabouring classes."

Is your husband at homeParson."Good morning, Mrs. Stubbins. Is your husband at home?"Mrs. Stubbins."'E's 'ome, sir; but 'e 's a-bed."Parson."How is it he didn't come to church on Sunday? You know we must have our hearts in the right place."Mrs. Stubbins."Lor, sir, 'is 'eart's all right. It's 'is trowziz!"

Parson."Good morning, Mrs. Stubbins. Is your husband at home?"

Mrs. Stubbins."'E's 'ome, sir; but 'e 's a-bed."

Parson."How is it he didn't come to church on Sunday? You know we must have our hearts in the right place."

Mrs. Stubbins."Lor, sir, 'is 'eart's all right. It's 'is trowziz!"

A Poacher's Paradise.—About an hour from town.—Charming bijou residence ...grounds adjoin a large pheasant preserve; owner going abroad.—Advt. in "Standard."

"A Crop Expert."—A professional hair-dresser.

IMPARTIALIMPARTIALNew Curate(who wishes to know all about his parishioners). "Then do I understand you that your aunt is on your father's side, or your mother's?"Country Lad."Zometimes one an' zometimes the other, 'ceptin' when feyther whacks 'em both, sir!"

New Curate(who wishes to know all about his parishioners). "Then do I understand you that your aunt is on your father's side, or your mother's?"

Country Lad."Zometimes one an' zometimes the other, 'ceptin' when feyther whacks 'em both, sir!"

I had such a beautiful dreamTRUE MODESTYMr. Spinks."I had such a beautiful dream last night, Miss Briggs! I thought I was in the Garden of Eden——"Miss Briggs(with simplicity). "And did Eve appear as she is generally represented, Mr. Spinks?"Mr. Spinks."I—I—I—I—didn't look!"

Mr. Spinks."I had such a beautiful dream last night, Miss Briggs! I thought I was in the Garden of Eden——"

Miss Briggs(with simplicity). "And did Eve appear as she is generally represented, Mr. Spinks?"

Mr. Spinks."I—I—I—I—didn't look!"

How did it go, marm?Professional Partnership.—Village Organ-blower(to Lady Organist, who has been trying a new voluntary). "How did it go, marm?" "Oh, all right. Why do you ask?" "Well, marm, to tell you the truth, I was a bit nervous about it. You see, marm, I've never blowed for that piece afore!"

Professional Partnership.—Village Organ-blower(to Lady Organist, who has been trying a new voluntary). "How did it go, marm?" "Oh, all right. Why do you ask?" "Well, marm, to tell you the truth, I was a bit nervous about it. You see, marm, I've never blowed for that piece afore!"

How to Winnow Corn.1st Method.—Get some corn. Get somebody who knows how to winnow it. Let him do it.

2nd Method.—Ifyouknow all about it, do it yourself.

3rd Method, for Beginners, given in Agricultural Terms.Place a steward near the blower, and let him drive the blower while the hopper is filled with a large wecht. (This is called the system ofHopper-ation.) Then let a woman with a small wecht slide down on a wheel crushing the blower with her shoes. This should be done in a neat, cleanly way until the scum has been swept with a besom through a wire screen, while another lot go on riddling, when it is the duty of the fanner to answer each riddle as it comes out. The fanner's chief work is, however, to prevent any labourer becoming too hot. When a labourer is very warm, he sits down before the fanner, who soon restores him to coolness.

Treatment of Fowls in Winter.—Roast them.

For the Volunteer-farmer in Winter.—Attend turnip drills.

How to Pickle Pork.—Get the hog into a proper temperature. To bring this about make him swallow a small thermometer. This'll warm him. Rub him with paper dipped in oil, give him a uniform coating of barley, tar, syrup of squills, pitch, and gold tin-foil. Paint his head green with orange stripes, and by that time he'll be in a pretty pickle.

Breakfast.—Always visit your poultry yard before breakfast. If unable to find a fresh egg, go to the cattle sheds. Remember that, where eggs cannot be obtained, ayokeof fine oxen beaten up with a cup of tea is most invigorating.

Political Garden PartyPolitical Garden Party in the Provinces.—Great Lady(speeding the parting guest). "So glad you were able to come!"Mayoress."Oh, we always try to oblige!"

Political Garden Party in the Provinces.—

Great Lady(speeding the parting guest). "So glad you were able to come!"

Mayoress."Oh, we always try to oblige!"

Agricultural.—A South of England farmer writes to us to say, that he has an early harvest in view, as he has already got three ricks in his neck, and is doing very well.

Further Illustration of the Mining Districts.—

First Polite Native."Who's 'im, Bill?"

Second ditto."A stranger!"

First ditto."'Eave 'arf a brick at 'im".

How to treat rough Diamonds.—Cut them!

District VisitorDistrict Visitor."Well, Mrs. Hodges, going to have a cup of tea?"Mrs. Hodges."Oh no, miss; we're just goin' to 'ave a wash!"

District Visitor."Well, Mrs. Hodges, going to have a cup of tea?"

Mrs. Hodges."Oh no, miss; we're just goin' to 'ave a wash!"

general abilityWHO'D HAVE THOUGHT IT!"Well, Johnson, been to the doctor, as I told you?""Yes, m'lord.""And what did he say was the matter with you?""'E says it's justgeneral ability, m'lord, that's all!"

"Well, Johnson, been to the doctor, as I told you?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"And what did he say was the matter with you?"

"'E says it's justgeneral ability, m'lord, that's all!"

He's a won'erful good sportin' daug, sir!Sagacity.—Countryman."Fi' pounds too much for him? He's a won'erful good sportin' daug, sir! Why, he come to a dead pint in the street, sir, close ag'in a ol' gen'leman, the other day—'fust o' September it was, sir!—an' the gen'leman told me arterwards as his name were 'Partridge'!"Customer."You don't say so!" [Bargain struck.

Sagacity.—Countryman."Fi' pounds too much for him? He's a won'erful good sportin' daug, sir! Why, he come to a dead pint in the street, sir, close ag'in a ol' gen'leman, the other day—'fust o' September it was, sir!—an' the gen'leman told me arterwards as his name were 'Partridge'!"

Customer."You don't say so!" [Bargain struck.

Stimulated by the recent achievements of a horticulturist, who is about to place on the market the "pomato," a blend of the apple and tomato, and the "plumcot," a mixture of plum and apricot,Mr. Punchhopes soon to be able to announce the successful rearing of the following novelties:—

The Cumberry.—This may be regarded either as a very long gooseberry or a very short cucumber, according to fancy. When fully ripe the skin is thin and the contents pulpy. Unripe it is like a cobble, and may be used as such.Mr. Punchis disposed to think that the over-ripe cumberry will be very popular at elections, especially when eggs are scarce. The hairy variety looks like a fat caterpillar, and makes very good grub.

The Mistletato, a happy combination of the romantic and the domestic. This fruit, which has a very piquant flavour, has been grown in a small patch of soil, concealed, like KingCharles, among the branches of an oak. Hence it is not surprising that the Mistletato should combine thenourishing qualities of the homely tuber with the sentimental associations of that plant which was revered by our Druid ancestors and is beloved by modern maidens. It should be a popular dish at wedding breakfasts.

The Pumpkonionpromises well and seems likely to combine the amplitude of the pumpkin with the pungency of the onion.Mr. Punchis of opinion that a machine will have to be invented for dealing with this vegetable, as to handle it would be too severe a tax upon the cook's lachrymal glands.

The Turniparrotand theParsniparagusare not yet sufficiently developed to be described with any confidence. Many others are only in an incipient state at present, butMr. Punchhopes to be able before long to announce that he has brought several to maturity, including the Collage and the Cabbyflower.

a present of this whipAll's Well that Ends Well.—Stepmother(entering village school with whip). "My boy tells me you broke your cane across his back yesterday?"Schoolmaster(turning pale). "Well, I—I may have struck harder than I intended, but——."Stepmother."I thought I'd make you a present of this whip. You'll find it'll last longer and do him more good!"

All's Well that Ends Well.—

Stepmother(entering village school with whip). "My boy tells me you broke your cane across his back yesterday?"

Schoolmaster(turning pale). "Well, I—I may have struck harder than I intended, but——."

Stepmother."I thought I'd make you a present of this whip. You'll find it'll last longer and do him more good!"

A Riddle from Colney Hatch.—Q.Why have we reason to suppose that a bee is a rook?

A.Because.

The Origin of Rural Decadence.—Through communications corrupt good manners.

SECOND THOUGHTS"SECOND THOUGHTS"Priest."Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife?"Bridegroom Elect."Well, aw's warned aw'll hev to hev her. But aw wad rayther hev her sister!!"

Priest."Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife?"

Bridegroom Elect."Well, aw's warned aw'll hev to hev her. But aw wad rayther hev her sister!!"

Awfully cold, isn't it, Mrs. MugglesThe Vicar's Daughter."Awfully cold, isn't it, Mrs. Muggles?"Mrs. Muggles."Yes, my dear. But, bless ye, I'mlovelyand warm!"

The Vicar's Daughter."Awfully cold, isn't it, Mrs. Muggles?"

Mrs. Muggles."Yes, my dear. But, bless ye, I'mlovelyand warm!"

his plough upon his shoulder!Miss Townley."I think the country is just sweet. I love to see the peasant returning to his humble cot, his sturdy figure outlined against the setting sun, his faithful collie by his side, and his plough upon his shoulder!"

Miss Townley."I think the country is just sweet. I love to see the peasant returning to his humble cot, his sturdy figure outlined against the setting sun, his faithful collie by his side, and his plough upon his shoulder!"

I've put your gun-case into the carriageThe Bishop of Lichborough(who has been on a visit to a sporting squire). "Now, I wonder if your man has remembered to put in my pastoral staff?"William(overhearing). "Yes, my lord. I've put your lordship's gun-case into the carriage!"

The Bishop of Lichborough(who has been on a visit to a sporting squire). "Now, I wonder if your man has remembered to put in my pastoral staff?"

William(overhearing). "Yes, my lord. I've put your lordship's gun-case into the carriage!"

the first wopps I see this yearCurate, after weeks of serious reading and conversation with Gaffer Stokes without much apparent result, is at last rewarded by a look of rapt exaltation on the Gaffer's face.Gaffer Stokes."A-men! That's the first wopps I see this year!"

Curate, after weeks of serious reading and conversation with Gaffer Stokes without much apparent result, is at last rewarded by a look of rapt exaltation on the Gaffer's face.

Gaffer Stokes."A-men! That's the first wopps I see this year!"

I can't thinkA GOOD REASONSympathetic Cousin."Poor boy! I'm so sorry you didn't pass your exam. What was the reason, I wonder?"Poor Boy(also wondering). "I can't think."

Sympathetic Cousin."Poor boy! I'm so sorry you didn't pass your exam. What was the reason, I wonder?"

Poor Boy(also wondering). "I can't think."

just enough bone to hold 'em byHAPPY THOUGHTObliging Country Butcher."Let me cut it into cutlets for you, ma'am,—leaving just enough bone for you to hold 'em by, while you're eating 'em!"

Obliging Country Butcher."Let me cut it into cutlets for you, ma'am,—leaving just enough bone for you to hold 'em by, while you're eating 'em!"

Wages and Wives.—Philanthropic Farmer."Well, Tompkins, after this week, instead of paying you partly in cider, I shall give you two shillings extra wages."

Tompkins."No, thanky', master; that won't do for me!"

Farmer."Why, man, you'll be the gainer; for the cider you had wasn't worth two shillings!"

Tompkins."Ah, but you see I drinks the cider myself; but the ow'd 'ooman 'll 'ev the two shillun'!!"

A Puzzle in Horticulture.—Little Chris.Daddy, what makes onions?

Daddy.Seeds, of course.

Little Chris.Then what makes seeds?

Daddy.Onions.

Little Chris(triumphantly). Then why don't us feed the canary on onions?

[Discomfiture and retreat of Daddy.

Agricultural Question.—Is a landlord who allows his farms to be over-stocked with rabbits entitled to be called a great bunnyfactor?

Were there a cloth on"AT ONE FELL SWOOP"Wife."Well, did ye find th' puddin' I left for you in the saucepan?"Collier(whose favourite dish is boiled puddings). "Oh, ay; I found it right enough. It were a stunner!"Wife."Did you take the cloth off?"Collier(after a pause). "Were there a clothon?"

Wife."Well, did ye find th' puddin' I left for you in the saucepan?"

Collier(whose favourite dish is boiled puddings). "Oh, ay; I found it right enough. It were a stunner!"

Wife."Did you take the cloth off?"

Collier(after a pause). "Were there a clothon?"

pleasure o' buryin' RichardRector(short-sighted). "Well, Richard, hard at work, eh? Let me see, youareRichard, aren't you?"Labourer."No, sir, oi be John, sir. You'ad the pleasure o' buryin'Richard last week, you remember, sir!"

Rector(short-sighted). "Well, Richard, hard at work, eh? Let me see, youareRichard, aren't you?"

Labourer."No, sir, oi be John, sir. You'ad the pleasure o' buryin'Richard last week, you remember, sir!"

Why don't you go in?First Tramp."Why don't you go in? 'E's all right. Don't you see 'im a-waggin' his tail?"Second Tramp."Yus; an' don't you see 'im a-growlin'? I dunno which end to believe!"

First Tramp."Why don't you go in? 'E's all right. Don't you see 'im a-waggin' his tail?"

Second Tramp."Yus; an' don't you see 'im a-growlin'? I dunno which end to believe!"

PROBABLYPROBABLYHe."I hope there are no bulls in here. I can't run as fast as I used to."She."I'm told that's the worst thing to do. I think if you stand and look at them, it's enough to send them away!"

He."I hope there are no bulls in here. I can't run as fast as I used to."

She."I'm told that's the worst thing to do. I think if you stand and look at them, it's enough to send them away!"

SOMETHING LIKE A MEDICINE"SOMETHING LIKE A MEDICINE"Doctor."Now remember, my man, three or four drops of this mixture three times a day—andinhale."Patient."Be I to take it in four or six hale, guv'nor?"

Doctor."Now remember, my man, three or four drops of this mixture three times a day—andinhale."

Patient."Be I to take it in four or six hale, guv'nor?"

(By Dumb-Crambo Junior)

SiloJudging StockSilo (Sigh low).Judging Stock.Best Turn Out of Horse and CartHurry For'ds (Herefords)Best Turn Out of Horse and Cart.Hurry For'ds (Herefords).Threshing MachineThe Cat 'll ShowThreshing Machine.The Cat 'll Show.Live StockJerseysLive Stock.Jerseys.A TuberPa's-NipsA Tuber.Pa's-Nips.

Silo

Judging Stock

Best Turn Out of Horse and Cart

Hurry For'ds (Herefords)

Threshing Machine

The Cat 'll Show

Live Stock

Jerseys

A Tuber

Pa's-Nips

Cab-age

Cab-age.

In a Somersetshire Inn.—Mr. Fitz-Archibald Smith(of London, to the Landlord).—Is there a hair-dresser in the village? I want to be shampooed and shaved.

Landlord.Well, zur, I doant know much about the shampoodling, but our ostler's used to clipping horses. Would 'e like to try him?

From the Poultry.—When does a hen like beer? When she has a littlebrood.

Shocking Bad Husbandry.—Baby-farming.

Latest from our Farmyard.—In the Fowl House.—"Left sitting."

"A Little Learning."—Lady Tactful(visiting small farmer). I hope, John, the rain has not damaged the wheat.

John.Ah, my lady, some of it will never grow; the wet hasbustedit.

Mrs. John(who is "educated"). He should have said "bursted" my lady. That's what he means.

Lady Tactful.Never mind. I think I prefer the old-fashioned pronunciation.

One of your confounded petsAmateur Gardener(to goat-fancying neighbour). "Hi, madam. One of your confounded pets has got into my garden, and is eating my bedding-plants!"Neighbour."Good gracious!I trust they are not poisonous!"

Amateur Gardener(to goat-fancying neighbour). "Hi, madam. One of your confounded pets has got into my garden, and is eating my bedding-plants!"

Neighbour."Good gracious!I trust they are not poisonous!"

marmaladedMore Amalgamation.—Parish Councillor."Wull, I do voate that the two par'shes be marmaladed."Chairman."Our worthy brother councillor means, I understand, that the two parishes should bejammed together!"

More Amalgamation.—Parish Councillor."Wull, I do voate that the two par'shes be marmaladed."

Chairman."Our worthy brother councillor means, I understand, that the two parishes should bejammed together!"

pew-opener up to Wickleham ChurchVillage Gossip."Did ye 'ere as owd Sally Sergeant's dead? 'Er what's bin pew-opener up to Wickleham Church nigh on fifty year."The Village Atheist(solemnly). "Ah! see what comes o' pew-openin'!"

Village Gossip."Did ye 'ere as owd Sally Sergeant's dead? 'Er what's bin pew-opener up to Wickleham Church nigh on fifty year."

The Village Atheist(solemnly). "Ah! see what comes o' pew-openin'!"

The Highest Possible Record of Character.—New Rector of Swaddlington(to Sexton). I see that the forge is close by the church, Grassmore. I hope that the smith is one of our friends?

Sexton.Why, bless 'ee, yes, sir, 'e 's the only man in all the parish as settled over the Cesarewitch.

Hint to the Managers of Poultry Shows.—Exhibit some henpecked husbands.

A Black Country Synonym.—Ruling with a rod of iron.—Beating your wife with a poker.

A Perfect Cure.—Town Man."How jolly it must be, living down here in the country!"

Country Gentleman."Oh, I don't know. It's rather a torpid sort of life; time passes very slowly."

Town Man."Time passes slowly? You should get somebody to draw on you at three months!!"

The Language of Flowers.—When the roses sweetly breathe a dew.

ForbearanceForbearance.—Young Lady."John, how long shall you be, as I want to practise?"Gallant Young Gardener."Oh, goo yeouw on, Miss Amy—goo yeouw on! I sha'n't mind yar noise!"

Forbearance.—Young Lady."John, how long shall you be, as I want to practise?"

Gallant Young Gardener."Oh, goo yeouw on, Miss Amy—goo yeouw on! I sha'n't mind yar noise!"

Or, What British Agriculture is coming to.Scene.—A Car on an Electric Light-railway.Time—The Twentieth Century.

First Farmer(recognising Second Farmer). Why, 'tis Muster Fretwail, surelie! didn't see it was you afore. And how be things gettin' along withyou, sir, eh?

Farmer Fretwail(lugubriously). 'Mong the middlin's, Muster Lackaday; 'mong the middlin's! Nothen doin' just now—nothen 't all!

Third Farmer(enviously). Well,youhevn't no call fur to cry out, neighbour! I see you've got a likely lot o' noo 'oardins comin' up all along your part o' the line. I wish mine wur arf as furrard, I know thet!

F. Fretwail.Ah, them "Keep yer 'air on" 's,youmean, Ryemouth. I don't deny as they was lookin' tidy enough a week back. But just as I was makin' ready fur to paint up "Try it on a Billiard Ball," blamed if this yere frost didn't setin, and now theer's everything at a standstill wi' the brushes froze 'ard in the pots!

F. Ryemouth.'Tis the same down with me. Theer 's a acre o' "Bunyan's Easy Boots" as must hev a noo coat, and I cann't get nothen done to 'en till th' weather's a bit more hopen like. Don' keer'owsoon we hev a change, myself, I don't!

F. Lackaday.Nor yet me, so long as we don't 'ave no gales with it. Theer was my height-acre pasture as I planted only las' Candlemas wi' "Roopy's Lung Tonics"—wunnerful fine and tall they was too—and ivery one on 'en blowed down the next week!

F. Fretwail.Well, I 'ope theer wun't be no rain, neither, come to that. I know I 'ad all the P's of my "Piffler's Persuasive Pillules" fresh gold-leaved at Michaelmas, and it come on wet directly arter I done it, and reg'lar washed the gilt out o' sight an' knowledge, it did. Theer ain't no standin' up agen rain!

F. Ryemouth.I dunno as I wouldn't as lief hev rain as sun. My "Hanti-Freckle Salves" all blistered up and peeled afoor the summer was 'ardly begun a'most.

F. Lackaday.'Tis a turr'ble 'ard climate to make 'ead against, is ourn. I've 'eard tell as some farmers are takin' to they enamelled hiron affairs, same as they used to hev when I wur a lad. I mind theer wur a crop o' "Read Comic Cagmag" as lingered on years arter the paper itself. Not as I hold with enamelling, myself—'tain't what I call 'igh farmin'—takes too much outer the land inmy'pinion.

F. Fretwail.Aye, aye. "Rotation o' boards." Say, "Spooner's Sulphur Syrup" fur a spring crop, follered with some kind o' soap or candles, and p'raps cough lozengers, or hembrocation, or bakin' powder, if the soil will bear it, arterwards—that's the systemIwur reared on, and theer ain't no better, 'pend upon it!

F. Ryemouth.I tell 'ee what 'tis; it's time we 'ad some protection agen these yere furrin advertisements. I was travellin' along the Great Northern tother day, and I see theer was two or three o' them French boards nigh in ivery field, a downright shame an' disgrace I call it, disfigurin' the look o' the country and makin' it that ontidy—let alone drivin' honest British boards off theland. Government ought to put a stop to it; that's whatIsay!

F. Lackaday.They Parliment chaps don't keerwhatbecomes of us poor farmers, they don't. Look at last General Election time. They might ha' given our boards a turn; but not they. Most o' they candidates did all their 'tisin' with rubbishy flags and balloons—made in Japan, sir, every blamed one o' them! And they wonder British agriculture don't prosper more!

F. Ryemouth.Speakin' o' queer ways o' hadvertisin', hev any on ye set eyes on that farm o' youngFullacrank's? Danged if iverIsee sech tom-fool notions as he's took up with in allmyborn days!

F. Fretwail.Why, what hev he bin up tonow, eh?

F. Ryemouth.Well, I thought I shud ha' bust myself larfin' when I see it fust. Theer ain't not a board nor a sky sign; no, nor yet a 'oarding, on the 'ole of his land!

F. Lackaday.Then how do he expect to get a profit out of it?—that's whatIwant to year.

F. Ryemouth.You' ll 'ardly credit it, neighboursbut he's been buryin' some o' they furrin grains, hoats and barley, an' I dunno what not, in little 'oles about his fields, so as to make the words, "Use Faddler's Non-farinaceous Food"—and the best on it is the darned young fool expecks as 'ow it'll all sprout come next Aperl—he do indeed, friends!

F. Fretwail.Flyin' in the face of Providence, I calls it. He must ha' gone clean out of his senses!

F. Lackaday.Stark starin' mad. I never heerd tell o' such extravagance. Why, as likely as not, 'twill all die off o' the land afore the year's out—and wheer wull he bethen?

F. Ryemouth.Azackly what I said to 'en myself. "You tek my word for it," I sez, "'twun't niver come to no good. The nateral crop for these yere British Hisles," I told 'en, "is good honest Henglish hoak an' canvas," I sez, "and 'tain't the action of no sensible man, nor yet no Christian," sez I, "to go a drillin' 'oles and a-droppin' in houtlandish seeds from Canada an' Roosha, which the sile wasn't never intended to bear!"

Farmers Fretwail and Lackaday.Rightly spoke, neighbour Ryemouth, 'twas a true word! But theer'll be a jegement on sech new-fangled doin's, and, what's moor, you and I will live fur to see it afore we're very much older!

[They all shake their heads solemnly as scene closes in.

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