NEW LONDON STREET DIRECTORY

The Ruling Passion.—A great financial reformer is so devoted to figures that when he has nothing else to do he casts up his eyes.

Bubble Concerns.—Aërated water companies.

Adam Street.—Antediluvian anecdotes and traditions still linger here.

Air Street.—Doctors send their patients to this locality for change.

Aldermanbury.—Visited by numbers of bereaved relatives.

Amwell Street.—Always healthy.

Barking Alley.—To be avoided in the dog days.

Boy Court.—Not far from Child's Place.

Camomile Street.—See Wormwood Street.

Coldbath Square.—Very bracing.

Distaff Lane.—Full of spinsters.

Farm Street.—Highly sensitive to the fluctuations of the corn market.

Fashion Street.—Magnificent sight in the height of the season.

First Street.—Of immense antiquity.

Friday Street.—Great jealousy felt by all the other days of the week.

Garlick Hill.—Make a littledétour.

Glasshouse Street.—Heavily insured against hailstorms.

Godliman Street.—Irreproachable.

Great Smith Street.—Which of the Smiths is this?

Grundy Street.—Named after that famous historic character—Mrs. Grundy.

Hercules Buildings.—Rich in traditions and stories of the "Labours" of the Founder.

Homer Street.—Literally classic ground. The house pointed out in connection with "the blind old bard" has long since disappeared.

Idol Lane.—Where are the Missionaries?

Ivy Lane.—This, and Lillypot Lane, and Woodpecker Lane, and Wheatsheaf Yard, and White Thorn Street, all sweetly rural. It is difficult to make a selection.

Lamb's Conduit Street.—Touching description (by the oldest inhabitant) of the young lambs coming to drink at the conduit.

Liquorpond Street.—See Philpot Lane.

Love Lane.—What sort of love? The "love of the turtle?"

Milk Street.—Notice the number of pumps.

Mincing Lane.—Mincing is now mostly done elsewhere, by machinery.

Orchard Street.—The last apple was gathered here about the time that the last coursing match took place in Hare Court.

Paper Buildings.—Wonderfully substantial! Brief paper extensively used in these buildings.

Quality Court.—Most aristocratic.

Riches Court.—Not a house to be had for love or money.

Shepherdess Walk.—Ought to be near Shepherds' Bush.

Trump Street.—Noted for whist.

Type Street.—Leaves a most favourable impression.

World's End Passage.—Finis.

Befogged PedestrianA Qualified Guide.Befogged Pedestrian."Could you direct me to the river, please?"Hatless and Dripping Stranger."Straight ahead. I've just come from it!"

Befogged Pedestrian."Could you direct me to the river, please?"

Hatless and Dripping Stranger."Straight ahead. I've just come from it!"

FASHIONABLE AND SEASONABLEFASHIONABLE AND SEASONABLE.Where to supal frescoin the hottest weather. The "WhelkomeClub"]

Where to supal frescoin the hottest weather. The "WhelkomeClub"]

"The Round of the Restaurants."—Beef.

SacrificeSacrifice.Good Templar."Tut—t—t—really, Swizzle, it's disgraceful to see a man in your position in this state, after the expense we've incurred and the exertions we've used to put down the liquor traffic!"Swizzle."Y' may preash as mush as y' like, gen'l'm'n, bur I can tell y' I've made more persh'nal efforsh to (hic) purrown liquor than any of ve!"

Good Templar."Tut—t—t—really, Swizzle, it's disgraceful to see a man in your position in this state, after the expense we've incurred and the exertions we've used to put down the liquor traffic!"

Swizzle."Y' may preash as mush as y' like, gen'l'm'n, bur I can tell y' I've made more persh'nal efforsh to (hic) purrown liquor than any of ve!"

A fog in London daytime like the night is,Our fellow-creatures seem like wandering ghosts,The dull mephitic cloud will bring bronchitis;You cannon into cabs or fall o'er posts.The air is full of pestilential vapours,Innumerable "blacks" come with the smoke;The thief and rough cut unmolested capers,In truth a London fog's no sort of joke.You rise by candle-light or gaslight, swearingThere never was a climate made like ours;If rashly you go out to take an airing,The soot-flakes come in black plutonian show'rs.Your carriage wildly runs into another,No matter though you go at walking pace;You meet your dearest friend, or else your brotherAnd never know him, although face to face.The hours run on, and night and day commingle,Unutterable filth is in the air;You're much depressed, e'en in the fire-side ingle,The hag dyspepsia seems everywhere.Your wild disgust in vain you try to bridle,Mad as March hare or hydrophobic dog,You feel, in fact, intensely suicidal:Such things befall us in a London fog!

A fog in London daytime like the night is,

Our fellow-creatures seem like wandering ghosts,

The dull mephitic cloud will bring bronchitis;

You cannon into cabs or fall o'er posts.

The air is full of pestilential vapours,

Innumerable "blacks" come with the smoke;

The thief and rough cut unmolested capers,

In truth a London fog's no sort of joke.

You rise by candle-light or gaslight, swearingThere never was a climate made like ours;If rashly you go out to take an airing,The soot-flakes come in black plutonian show'rs.Your carriage wildly runs into another,No matter though you go at walking pace;You meet your dearest friend, or else your brotherAnd never know him, although face to face.

You rise by candle-light or gaslight, swearing

There never was a climate made like ours;

If rashly you go out to take an airing,

The soot-flakes come in black plutonian show'rs.

Your carriage wildly runs into another,

No matter though you go at walking pace;

You meet your dearest friend, or else your brother

And never know him, although face to face.

The hours run on, and night and day commingle,Unutterable filth is in the air;You're much depressed, e'en in the fire-side ingle,The hag dyspepsia seems everywhere.Your wild disgust in vain you try to bridle,Mad as March hare or hydrophobic dog,You feel, in fact, intensely suicidal:Such things befall us in a London fog!

The hours run on, and night and day commingle,

Unutterable filth is in the air;

You're much depressed, e'en in the fire-side ingle,

The hag dyspepsia seems everywhere.

Your wild disgust in vain you try to bridle,

Mad as March hare or hydrophobic dog,

You feel, in fact, intensely suicidal:

Such things befall us in a London fog!

The most Loyal of Cup-bearers.—A blind man's dog.

Not quite what he meantNot quite what he meant.Joan(on her annual Spring visit to London). "There, John, I think that would suit me."Darby(grumblingly). "That, Maria? Why, a pretty figure it would come to!"Joan."Ah, John dear, you're always so complimentary! I'll go and ask the price."

Joan(on her annual Spring visit to London). "There, John, I think that would suit me."

Darby(grumblingly). "That, Maria? Why, a pretty figure it would come to!"

Joan."Ah, John dear, you're always so complimentary! I'll go and ask the price."

A Serio-Comic InterludeScene—An Office in the City.Time—After Lunch.Present—Members of a proposed Syndicate.

First Member.And now, gentlemen, to business. I suppose we may put down the capital at fifty thousand?

Second Mem.Better make it five hundred thousand. Half a million is so much easier to get.

Third Mem.Of course. Who would look at a paltry fifty?

First Mem.Perhaps you are right. Five pound shares, eh?

Fourth Mem.Better make them sovereigns. Simpler to manipulate.

First Mem.I daresay. Then the same solicitors as our last?

Fifth Mem.Yes, on the condition that they get a firm to undertake the underwriting.

First Mem.Necessarily. The firm I propose, gentlemen, are men of business, and quite recognise that nothing purchases nothing.

Second Mem.And they could get the secretary with a thousand to invest.

First Mem.Certainly. Our brokers, bankers, and auditors as before. Eh, gentlemen?

Fifth Mem.On the same conditions.

First Mem.That is understood. And now the prospectus is getting into shape. Is there anything else anyone can suggest?

Fourth Mem.Oughtn't we to have some object in view?

First Mem.Assuredly. Making money.

Fourth Mem.Don't be frivolous. But what I mean is, should we not know for what purpose we are going to expend the half million?

First Mem.Oh, you mean the name. Well, that comparatively unimportant detail we might safely leave until our next pleasant gathering.

[Meeting adjourned.

Curtain.

That man is indeed hard up who cannot get credit even for good intentions.

How unfair to sneer at the City tradesmen for being above their business, when so few of them live over their shops!

snapshot in the suburbsAn early morning snapshot in the suburbs. Mr. Bumpus dresses his window.

An early morning snapshot in the suburbs. Mr. Bumpus dresses his window.

METROPOLITAN IMPROVEMENTSMETROPOLITAN IMPROVEMENTSProposed elevated roadway for perambulators

Proposed elevated roadway for perambulators

(From "The City Man's Vade Mecum")

Promoter.Are you a gentleman of blameless reputation?

Candidate.Certainly, and I share that reputation with a dozen generations of ancestors.

Promoter.And no doubt you are the soul of honour?

Candidate.That is my belief—a belief shared by all my friends and acquaintances.

Promoter.And I think, before taking up finance, you have devoted a long life to the service of your country?

Candidate.That is so. My career has been rewarded by all kinds of honours.

Promoter.And there is no particular reason why you should dabble in Stock Exchange matters?

Candidate.None that I know of—save, perhaps, to serve a friend.

Promoter.Now, be very careful. Do youknow anything whatever about the business it is proposed you should superintend?

Candidate.Nothing whatever. I know nothing absolutely about business.

Promoter.Then I have much pleasure in informing you that you have been unanimously elected a member of the board of management!

[Scene closes in until the public demands further information.

where I'll be respected"Perfeck Lidy" (who has just been ejected). "Well,nexttime I goes into a publickouse, I'll go somewhere where I'll berespected!"

"Perfeck Lidy" (who has just been ejected). "Well,nexttime I goes into a publickouse, I'll go somewhere where I'll berespected!"

Oh! why, my friend, is a joint stockConcern like, yet unlike, a clock?Because it may be wound up; when,Alas! it doesn't go again.

Oh! why, my friend, is a joint stock

Concern like, yet unlike, a clock?

Because it may be wound up; when,

Alas! it doesn't go again.

The Seat of Impudence.—A cabman's box.

Song of Suburban Householders awaiting the Advent of the Dustman.—"Wealwaysuse a big, big D!"

A Floating Capital Joke.—When may a man be said to be literally immersed in business?—When he's giving a swimming lesson.

A Cheerful Investment.—A laughing-stock.

Bread's gone up to-dayBaker."I shall want another ha'penny. Bread's gone up to-day."Boy."Then give us one of yesterday's."

Baker."I shall want another ha'penny. Bread's gone up to-day."

Boy."Then give us one of yesterday's."

Because I have long felt a strong desire to know by personal experiment what London is like at this season of the year.

Because the house requires some repairs, and I am anxious to be on the spot to look after the workpeople.

Because the progress of my book on Universal Eccentricity renders it necessary that I should pay frequent visits to the library of the British Museum.

Because I have been everywhere, and know every place.

Because the sanitary condition of the only place I at all care to go to is not altogether satisfactory.

Because my Uncle Anthony is expected home every day from Australia, and I am unwilling to be absent from town when he arrives.

Because my cousin Selina is going to be married from her stepfather's at Upper Clapton, and insists on my giving her away to the gentleman with whom she is about to penetrate into the interior of Africa.

Because I am desirous to avail myself of this opportunity of completing some statistical tables I am compiling, showing the comparative numbers of horses, carriages, and pedestrians passing my dining-room windows on the last Saturday in May and the last Saturday in August respectively.

Because my eldest son is reading with a private tutor for his army examination, and I feel I am of some use to him in his studies.

Because my Aunt Philippa is detained in town by an attack of gout, and expects me to call and sit with her three times a day.

Because I am determined to put into execution my long-cherished design of thoroughly exploring the British Museum, the National Gallery, the South Kensington Museum, St. Paul's, Westminster Abbey, the public monuments, and the City churches.

Because it is pecuniarily inconvenient to me to be anywhere else.

The gentleman who, the other day, ran away from home, without stopping to take his breath, is requested to fetch it as quickly as possible.

FoggedFogged.Cabman(who thinks he has been passing a line of linkmen). "Is this right for Paddington?"Linkman."'Course it is! First to the right and straight on. 'Aven't I told ye that three times already? Why, you've been drivin' round this square for the last 'arf hour!"

Cabman(who thinks he has been passing a line of linkmen). "Is this right for Paddington?"

Linkman."'Course it is! First to the right and straight on. 'Aven't I told ye that three times already? Why, you've been drivin' round this square for the last 'arf hour!"

Virtuous IndignationVirtuous Indignation.Betting Man(to his Partner). "Look 'ere, Joe! I 'ear you've been gamblin' on the Stock Exchange! Now, a manmustdraw the linesomewhere; and if that kind of thing goes on, you and me will 'ave to part company!"

Betting Man(to his Partner). "Look 'ere, Joe! I 'ear you've been gamblin' on the Stock Exchange! Now, a manmustdraw the linesomewhere; and if that kind of thing goes on, you and me will 'ave to part company!"

You start a company to make it go,It fails, and so you drop it;It didn't go but yet has gone, and soYou wind it up to stop it.Stocks in your garden you will surely findBy want of rain are slaughtered;Yet many stocks have languished and declinedBecause they have been watered.Suppose a company for brewing beerShould come to a cessation—That is—"dry up" 'tis curious to hearIt's called "in liquidation."

You start a company to make it go,It fails, and so you drop it;It didn't go but yet has gone, and soYou wind it up to stop it.

You start a company to make it go,

It fails, and so you drop it;

It didn't go but yet has gone, and so

You wind it up to stop it.

Stocks in your garden you will surely findBy want of rain are slaughtered;Yet many stocks have languished and declinedBecause they have been watered.

Stocks in your garden you will surely find

By want of rain are slaughtered;

Yet many stocks have languished and declined

Because they have been watered.

Suppose a company for brewing beerShould come to a cessation—That is—"dry up" 'tis curious to hearIt's called "in liquidation."

Suppose a company for brewing beer

Should come to a cessation—

That is—"dry up" 'tis curious to hear

It's called "in liquidation."

Some archæologists have discovered an analogy between the druidical worship and a form of semitic idolatry. It has been surmised that the Old Bailey derives its name from having been the site of a temple of Baal.

The Rule of Rome.—An "Inquiring City Clerk," fresh from his Roman history, writes to ask if "S.P.Q.R." stands for "Small profits, quick returns."

A Temperance Public-house.—A slop-shop.

MELTING MOMENTSMELTING MOMENTS(Temperature 95° in the Shade.)Friend."How does this weather suit you, old chap?"Bankrupt Proprietor."Oh, down to the ground! You see, I'm in liquidation!

(Temperature 95° in the Shade.)

Friend."How does this weather suit you, old chap?"

Bankrupt Proprietor."Oh, down to the ground! You see, I'm in liquidation!

The Original Cook's Tourist.—Policeman X on his beat.

"The Great Plague of London."—A barrel-organ.

The Latest Thing Out.—The night-light.

How much do you requireJohnny(who has to face a bad Monday, to Manager at Messrs. R-thsch-ld's). "Ah! I—want to—ah!—see you about an overdraft."Manager."How much do you require?"Johnny."Ah!—how much have you got?"

Johnny(who has to face a bad Monday, to Manager at Messrs. R-thsch-ld's). "Ah! I—want to—ah!—see you about an overdraft."Manager."How much do you require?"Johnny."Ah!—how much have you got?"

French LadyFrench Lady."Picca-di-lee Circus."Obliging Conductor."All right. One pence."French Lady(who rather prides herself on her English pronunciation). "I anterstond ze Engleeshe langue."Obliging Conductor."Oh, all right. Keep yer 'air on!"

French Lady."Picca-di-lee Circus."Obliging Conductor."All right. One pence."French Lady(who rather prides herself on her English pronunciation). "I anterstond ze Engleeshe langue."Obliging Conductor."Oh, all right. Keep yer 'air on!"

The Most Unpleasant Meeting.—Having to meet a bill.

Whatintimate connection is there between the lungs of London and the lights of the metropolis?

Saw for Slop Tailors.—Ill tweeds shrink apace.

A Tissue of Lies.—A forged bank-note.

A Nice Investment.—Amongst the advertisements of new undertakings we notice one of "The Universal Disinfector Company." Our broker has instructions to procure us some shares, if they are in good odour.

A Tight Fit.—Intoxication.

How to Supply St. Paul's with Bells and ChimesCheap.—Melt down the canons.

A Thought from our Tub.—Respect everybody's feelings. If you wish to have your laundress's address, avoid asking her where she "hangs out."

Hard Lines.—Overhead wires.

Hotel for Bee-Fanciers.—The Hum-mums.

Unprecedented Trade Announcement.—The pig-market was quiet.

Money Market and Sanitary Intelligence.—The unsafest of all deposits is the deposit of the banks of the Thames.

The Place to Spend All Fools' Day.—Madame Tous-sots'.

You're quite safeBus-driver."All right, ladies! You're quite safe. They're werry partikler wot they eats!"

Bus-driver."All right, ladies! You're quite safe. They're werry partikler wot they eats!"

METROPOLITAN IMPROVEMENTSMETROPOLITAN IMPROVEMENTSThe next sensational literary advertisement; or, things of beauty in our streets.

The next sensational literary advertisement; or, things of beauty in our streets.

Solemn Jest.—Where should postmen be buried? In a post-crypt.

A Blunder-Bus.—One that takes you to Holborn when you want to go to the Bank.

Epitaph for a Stockbroker.—"Waiting for a rise."

Board Wages.—Directors' fees.

Illustrated by Dumb-Crambo, Junior

Carrying overCarrying over

Market fallingMarket falling

Market firmMarket firm

Preparing for a risePreparing for a rise

Arranging for a fallArranging for a fall

Home securities flatHome securities flat

(A real bit from life at a City company's dinner)

Young Visitor.Really, sir, you must excuse me. I am compelled to refuse.

Old Alderman(with profound astonishment). What, refuse these beautiful grouse? It's impossible!

Young Visitor.Itisimpossible, I can assure you, sir. I cannot eat any more.

Old Alderman(tenderly). Come, come. I tell you what now. Just take my advice, andtry a cold chair.

Design for a Paper-Weight.—The portrait of a gentleman waiting for theTimes.

The Best "Financial Relations."—Our "uncles."

At the Angel Court Kitchen.—Stranger(to Eminent Financier). Why did you call that man at the bar "the Microbe"?Eminent Financier.Because he's "in everything."

Ground Rents.—The effects of an earthquake.

Following the FashionFollowing the Fashion.Baked-Tater Merchant."'Ow's trade! Why fust-rate!! I'm a-goin' to conwert the bis'ness into a limited liability comp'ny—and retire into private life!!!"

Baked-Tater Merchant."'Ow's trade! Why fust-rate!! I'm a-goin' to conwert the bis'ness into a limited liability comp'ny—and retire into private life!!!"

UPON THE KERB

Upon the kerb a maiden neat—Her watchet eyes are passing sweet—There stands and waits in dire distress:The muddy road is pitiless,And 'buses thunder down the street!A snowy skirt, all frill and pleat;Two tiny, well-shod, dainty feetPeep out, beneath her kilted dress,Upon the kerb!She'll first advance and then retreat,Half frightened by a hansom fleet.She looks around, I must confess,With marvellous coquettishness!—Then droops her eyes and looks discreet,Upon the kerb!

Upon the kerb a maiden neat—Her watchet eyes are passing sweet—There stands and waits in dire distress:The muddy road is pitiless,And 'buses thunder down the street!

Upon the kerb a maiden neat—

Her watchet eyes are passing sweet—

There stands and waits in dire distress:

The muddy road is pitiless,

And 'buses thunder down the street!

A snowy skirt, all frill and pleat;Two tiny, well-shod, dainty feetPeep out, beneath her kilted dress,Upon the kerb!

A snowy skirt, all frill and pleat;

Two tiny, well-shod, dainty feet

Peep out, beneath her kilted dress,

Upon the kerb!

She'll first advance and then retreat,Half frightened by a hansom fleet.She looks around, I must confess,With marvellous coquettishness!—Then droops her eyes and looks discreet,Upon the kerb!

She'll first advance and then retreat,

Half frightened by a hansom fleet.

She looks around, I must confess,

With marvellous coquettishness!—

Then droops her eyes and looks discreet,

Upon the kerb!

Definition of "The Happy Mean."—A joyful miser.

To People Down in the World.—Try the new hotels: they will give you a lift.

Whatis the best thing to do in a hurry? Nothing.

Handy with his feetSarah(to Sal). "Lor! ain't 'e 'andy with 'is feet!"

Sarah(to Sal). "Lor! ain't 'e 'andy with 'is feet!"

The Metropolis in theMorte Saison

8a.m.—Rise, as in the country, and stroll round the squares before breakfast, to see the turn out of cooks and charwomen. Ask your way back of the first policeman you meet.

9a.m.—Breakfast. First taste of London milk and butter. Analyse, if not in a hurry. Any policeman will show you the nearest chemist.

10a.m.—To Battersea Park to see carpets beaten. Curious atmospheric effects observable in the clouds of dust and the language of the beaters. Inquire your road of any policeman.

11a.m.—Take penny steamer up to Westminster Bridge, in time to arrive at Scotland Yard, and inspect the police as they start on their various beats. For any information, inquire of the inspector.

12p.m.—Hansom cab races. These can be viewed at any hour by standing still at a hundred yards from any cabstand and holding up a shilling.An amusing sequel may be enjoyed by referring all the drivers to the nearest policeman.

1p.m.—Observe the beauties of solitude among the flowers in Hyde Park. Lunch at the lodge on curds and whey. Ask the whey of the park keeper.

2p.m.—Visit the exhibitions of painting on the various scaffoldings in Belgravia. Ask the next policeman if the house painters are Royal Academicians. Note what he says.

3p.m.—Look at the shops in Bond Street and Regent Street, and purchase the dummy goods disposed of at an awful sacrifice.

4p.m.—See the stickleback fed at the Westminster Aquarium. If nervous at being alone, ask the policeman in waiting to accompany you over the building.

5p.m.—Find a friend still in town to give you five o'clock tea in her back drawing-room—the front of the house being shut up.

6p.m.—Back to the park. Imagine the imposing cavalcades in Rotten Row (now invisible), with the aid of one exercising groom and the two daughters of a riding-master in full procession.

7p.m.—Wake up the waiters at the TricliniumRestaurant, and persuade them to warm up dinner for your benefit.

8p.m.—Perambulate the Strand, and visit the closed doors of the various theatres. Ask the nearest policeman for his opinion on London actors. You will find it as good as a play.

9p.m.—A Turkish bath may be had in Covent Garden Theatre. Towels or programmes are supplied by the policemen at the doors.

10p.m.—Converse, before turning in, with the policeman on duty or the fireman in charge of the fire-escape. Much interesting information may be obtained in this way.

11p.m.—Supper at the cabmen's shelter, or the coffee stall corner of Hyde Park. Get a policeman to take you home to bed.

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