A REGULAR NUISANCE.

The Plague has come among us,Miserable sinners!Fear and remorse have stung us,Miserable sinners!We ask the State to fix a day.Whereon all men may fast and pray,That Heaven will please to turn awayThe Plague that works us sore dismay.Miserable sinners!

The Plague has come among us,

Miserable sinners!

Fear and remorse have stung us,

Miserable sinners!

We ask the State to fix a day.

Whereon all men may fast and pray,

That Heaven will please to turn away

The Plague that works us sore dismay.

Miserable sinners!

Palmerstonto thePresbyters.

The Plague that comes among you,Miserable sinners!To effort hath it strung you?Miserable sinners!You ask that all should fast and pray;Better all wake and work, I say;Sloth and supineness put away,That so the Plague may cease to slay;Miserable sinners!For Plagues like other evils,Miserable sinners!AreGod'sand not the Devil's,Miserable sinners!Scourges they are, but in a handWhich love and pity do command;And when the heaviest stripes do fall,'Tis where they're wanted most of all,Miserable sinners!Look round about your city,Miserable sinners!Arouse to shame and pity.Miserable sinners!Pray: but use brush and limewash pail;Fast: but feed those for want who fail;Bow down, gude town, to ask for grace,But bow with cleaner hands and face,Miserable sinners!All TimeGod'sLaw hath spoken,Miserable sinners!That Law may not be broken,Miserable sinners!But he that breaks it, must endureThe penalty which works the cure.To us, forGod'sgreat laws transgressed,Is doomsman Pestilence addressed,Miserable sinners!We cannot juggle Heaven,Miserable sinners!With one day out of seven,Miserable sinners!Shall any force of fasts atoneFor years of duty left undone?How expiate with prayer or psalm,Deaf ear, blind eye, and folded palm?Miserable sinners!Let us be up and stirring,Miserable sinners!'Mongst ignorant and erring,Miserable sinners!Sloth and self-seeking from us cast,Believing this the fittest fast,For of all prayers prayed 'neath the sunThere is no prayer like work well done,Miserable sinners!

The Plague that comes among you,

Miserable sinners!

To effort hath it strung you?

Miserable sinners!

You ask that all should fast and pray;

Better all wake and work, I say;

Sloth and supineness put away,

That so the Plague may cease to slay;

Miserable sinners!

For Plagues like other evils,Miserable sinners!AreGod'sand not the Devil's,Miserable sinners!Scourges they are, but in a handWhich love and pity do command;And when the heaviest stripes do fall,'Tis where they're wanted most of all,Miserable sinners!

For Plagues like other evils,

Miserable sinners!

AreGod'sand not the Devil's,

Miserable sinners!

Scourges they are, but in a hand

Which love and pity do command;

And when the heaviest stripes do fall,

'Tis where they're wanted most of all,

Miserable sinners!

Look round about your city,Miserable sinners!Arouse to shame and pity.Miserable sinners!Pray: but use brush and limewash pail;Fast: but feed those for want who fail;Bow down, gude town, to ask for grace,But bow with cleaner hands and face,Miserable sinners!

Look round about your city,

Miserable sinners!

Arouse to shame and pity.

Miserable sinners!

Pray: but use brush and limewash pail;

Fast: but feed those for want who fail;

Bow down, gude town, to ask for grace,

But bow with cleaner hands and face,

Miserable sinners!

All TimeGod'sLaw hath spoken,Miserable sinners!That Law may not be broken,Miserable sinners!But he that breaks it, must endureThe penalty which works the cure.To us, forGod'sgreat laws transgressed,Is doomsman Pestilence addressed,Miserable sinners!

All TimeGod'sLaw hath spoken,

Miserable sinners!

That Law may not be broken,

Miserable sinners!

But he that breaks it, must endure

The penalty which works the cure.

To us, forGod'sgreat laws transgressed,

Is doomsman Pestilence addressed,

Miserable sinners!

We cannot juggle Heaven,Miserable sinners!With one day out of seven,Miserable sinners!Shall any force of fasts atoneFor years of duty left undone?How expiate with prayer or psalm,Deaf ear, blind eye, and folded palm?Miserable sinners!

We cannot juggle Heaven,

Miserable sinners!

With one day out of seven,

Miserable sinners!

Shall any force of fasts atone

For years of duty left undone?

How expiate with prayer or psalm,

Deaf ear, blind eye, and folded palm?

Miserable sinners!

Let us be up and stirring,Miserable sinners!'Mongst ignorant and erring,Miserable sinners!Sloth and self-seeking from us cast,Believing this the fittest fast,For of all prayers prayed 'neath the sunThere is no prayer like work well done,Miserable sinners!

Let us be up and stirring,

Miserable sinners!

'Mongst ignorant and erring,

Miserable sinners!

Sloth and self-seeking from us cast,

Believing this the fittest fast,

For of all prayers prayed 'neath the sun

There is no prayer like work well done,

Miserable sinners!

Last week news arrived from Santa Fé of a tribe of warlike Indians, who use "Golden Bullets." Since thenMr. Wyld—of the Great Globe—has been daily beset by gentlemen from the Minories and Houndsditch, for maps of the exact locality.Colonel Israelis at this moment raising a company of the Jewish persuasion, to be called the Rag Fair Rangers.

INGENIOUS PROTECTION AGAINST MIDGESINGENIOUS PROTECTION AGAINST MIDGES—A VALUABLE HINT TO SKETCHERS FROM NATURE.

Mr. Punchhas long ago been appointed, by and under his own act, Inspector-General of Nuisances, and he may certainly take credit for the removal of a great many nuisances long before the legislature gave its attention to the subject.

Mr. Punchhas lately been engaged in the inspection of the great City of London Corporation Nuisance, and refers to the annexed report for the result of his observations:

My attention was first drawn to the Corporation Nuisance by the very bad odour surrounding the locality, and by a very general rumour that an offensive body, in a most alarming state of corruption, was lying within the precincts of the City of London.

I accordingly proceeded to visit the spot, where a lamentable scene presented itself. I found some four-and-twenty individuals huddled, or, rather, closeted together, in one room, surrounded by a quantity of refuse vegetable and animal matter (apparently composed of pine-apple and venison), the effluvium from which was of the most deleterious character. On examining further, I found a large quantity of thick fluid, in the midst of which were several portions of a glutinous green turtley material, and over the surface a sort of coating had formed, which might almost be cut with a knife—so thick was the matter that had settled on the top of the stagnant liquid. This deleterious wash had been placed in vessels resembling soup-tureens, and was no doubt intended for removal, a great deal of it having been already got rid of by the persons assembled in the room, who appear, however, to have been unable to proceed further with their disgusting operation. I found them in a state of considerable exhaustion among the refuse stuff, and there can be no doubt that the condition in which they are living is highly injurious to the health—moral as well as physical—and likely to exercise a most contaminating influence on the surrounding atmosphere.

In pursuance of this reportMr. Punchfeels it his duty to order the removal of the nuisance within a reasonable time, for the parties have been so frequently warned that there is little hope they will of themselves proceed to abate the evils that have so long been matter of public notoriety.Mr. Punchintends proceeding to inspect other departments of the great City of London Corporation Nuisance, and to persevere until a clean bill of health can be presented.

If the Legislative Council of New South Wales are enabled to effect their proposal for the creation of an hereditary Peerage in that colony, it will be necessary to assign armorial bearings to the new noblemen. This will be no very difficult matter; respect being had to the origin of the chief families that will be comprised in that aristocracy. For example, here is the blazon of a coat that might be borne by the name ofSikes, elevated to the Dukedom of Norfolk Island.

Gules, on a crossermine, between four hand-cuffs,or, a jemmy of the field. Crest, out of a window shutterverta hand,sable, grasping a centre-bitproper.

The above coat will readily be seen to indicate that the founder of the bearer's family had been transported for burglary accompanied by violence. The latter feature of his achievements is denoted by the sanguinary colour of the field, and of the implement depicted on the centre of the scutcheon. By the number of the handcuffs are signified two convictions. The cross alludes to crossing the herring-pond, and the ermine indicates the judicial sentence by which the voyage was prescribed. The crest speaks for itself; the use of the term sable is an allowable liberty, as being necessary to represent the probable state of the member to which it is applied, considered in relation to soap and water. The family motto might be,Mortuus vivo, which would be a neat paraphrase of "Death Recorded."

The horse, the sheep, the pig, and other cattle—for stealing which the forefathers of the ennobled parties were relegated—would furnish abundance of animal forms for the purposes of heraldic symbolism. To these might be added the magpie, the stoat, the weasel, and other creatures that are the emblems of theft and larceny. Though, for the matter of that, the more ancient devices of eagles, dragons, griffins, lions, and the like beasts and birds of prey, would do quite sufficiently well to glorify exploits of plunder and rapine; nor could any motto for the member of a Botany Bay nobility be more suitable than some of those very professions of ancestral principle, which are the glory of certain high pedigrees among ourselves. "Thou shall want ere I want," for instance, would precisely suit the descendant of a footpad. A convict who had become a prosperous gentleman, after having completed his sentence of transportation for seven years, could not have left a happier legend to his posterity, than "I bide my time." Moreover, when it is considered that the foundation of not a few among our own great houses was either fraud or force, it cannot be asserted that a Peerage of New South Wales would not rest to a considerable extent on a like basis with the British nobility. So that, when you come to think it, there may not be so very much difference, after all, between those who came in with the Conqueror, and those who went out in the convict ship.

A NUISANCE IN THE CITYA NUISANCE IN THE CITY THAT MUST BE GOT RID OF.The Inspector of Nuisances."HALLO! HERE'S A VERY BAD CASE—A ROOM FULL OF PIGS I DECLARE, AND AN IMMENSE QUANTITY OF ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE MATTER!"

The Inspector of Nuisances."HALLO! HERE'S A VERY BAD CASE—A ROOM FULL OF PIGS I DECLARE, AND AN IMMENSE QUANTITY OF ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE MATTER!"

TTHE Sessions of the Central Criminal Court have lost much of their attraction—especially to a hungry Old Bailey Bar, some of whom are dreadfully open-mouthed—by the cutting down of the dinners usually given by the Sheriffs. It seems that the learned Judges have not as yet had any dinner at all in the City, but have been obliged to be satisfied with a rather substantial "lunch," by way of substitute. The two Sheriffs have been at loggerheads, and one of them—Mr. Wallis—has provided a meal to which he has invited only the Aldermen on the rota instead of the whole body; upon whichSheriff Wirefearing lest his brother Aldermen should starve, has started an opposition table. In the mean time the Judges have been making a meagre lunch with one Sheriff and dining with neither. There being, however, two lunches a day, and two opposition dinners, we should be glad to know how the worthy Chaplain of Newgate performs his elaborate duty of partaking of every meal, which he must necessarily do, in order to avoid giving offence to either of the opposition Sheriffs. The reverend ordinary will have the extraordinary task of disposing of two lunches and two dinners in four-and-twenty hours—an accomplishment that calls to mind the old familiar feat of the leg of mutton and trimmings.

THE Sessions of the Central Criminal Court have lost much of their attraction—especially to a hungry Old Bailey Bar, some of whom are dreadfully open-mouthed—by the cutting down of the dinners usually given by the Sheriffs. It seems that the learned Judges have not as yet had any dinner at all in the City, but have been obliged to be satisfied with a rather substantial "lunch," by way of substitute. The two Sheriffs have been at loggerheads, and one of them—Mr. Wallis—has provided a meal to which he has invited only the Aldermen on the rota instead of the whole body; upon whichSheriff Wirefearing lest his brother Aldermen should starve, has started an opposition table. In the mean time the Judges have been making a meagre lunch with one Sheriff and dining with neither. There being, however, two lunches a day, and two opposition dinners, we should be glad to know how the worthy Chaplain of Newgate performs his elaborate duty of partaking of every meal, which he must necessarily do, in order to avoid giving offence to either of the opposition Sheriffs. The reverend ordinary will have the extraordinary task of disposing of two lunches and two dinners in four-and-twenty hours—an accomplishment that calls to mind the old familiar feat of the leg of mutton and trimmings.

The name of "ordinary" is most appropriately given to the worthy Chaplain, who by virtue of his office is present at the ordinary at one, the other ordinary at five, and again at the two extra-ordinaries occasioned by the division between the two Sheriffs. It appears that in the midst of all this superabundance the learned Judges, "huffed" at having received their invitations from one Sheriff instead of two, have preferred going dinnerless; wisely, however, hesitating to abandon themselves to hopeless hunger, they have to compromise with their dignity by condescending to "lunch" at the table ofSheriff Wallis.

We confess we should be glad to see the practice of Old Bailey dinners getting abandoned altogether, so that the old sarcasm as to "wretches hanging that Judges may dine," may for ever lose its traditional point, as it has long ago lost its practical application. There is something unpleasantly anomalous in the substitution of the table-napkin for the ermine before quitting the Court, and it is not a pleasant reflection, that the prisoners having been awarded their deserts, the Judges will, under the same roof, proceed to take their dinners.

Oh such a row, such a rumpus and a bobbery,Everything and every one quite in the dark;No one knows the order of the Summonses,Fixed to be heard byMr. Baron Parke:Tearing, swearing,For dignity not caring,Common lawyers, clerks of all sorts, down to office drudge.Never was a rougher set of noisy individuals,Hanging round the chamber doors to go before the Judge.

Oh such a row, such a rumpus and a bobbery,

Everything and every one quite in the dark;

No one knows the order of the Summonses,

Fixed to be heard byMr. Baron Parke:

Tearing, swearing,

For dignity not caring,

Common lawyers, clerks of all sorts, down to office drudge.

Never was a rougher set of noisy individuals,

Hanging round the chamber doors to go before the Judge.

Berangerthe poet is, we are told by the paragraph-mongers, continually receiving presents of jam from his enthusiastic countrymen. We regret to say that our own poets meet with no such sweets, and frequently pass a life of unmitigated bitters. Instead of presents of jam (now let the reader prepare to be knocked down by a fearful blow to his common sense)—we repeat—instead of presents of jam our poets too often meet with a gelid indifference—jamandgelid; does the reader see what we are aiming at?

Oh, that the million million million billions of seeds of corn rotting on the Danube were "corned" into gunpowder, and swallowed byNicholas. Having no bowels, how could it hurt him?

The City's the Model Republic ofPlato,As like as potato can be to potato,Save in one point alone; and it would be a pityIf that difference did not distinguish the City.InPlato'sRepublic, all good things combining,That serve to the great ends of drinking and dining,No Poet was suffered his metres to mingleWith the clatter of plates, and the wine glasses' jingle.But London's good City a poet possessesWho sings its high deeds and its glory expresses,And graces its banquets, his brows bound with myrtle,Sucking up inspiration together with turtle.That Poet—whose aim is existence to sweeten—Next day sings the praises of what he has eaten,Which by wholesale are bought by the rich CorporationAs the fairest account of the jollification.At eighty-five, Fleet Street, this son ofApolloIndites, each November, the Song of the Swallow;His muse every bookseller's counter encumbers,But his friends in the City buy up all his numbers.

The City's the Model Republic ofPlato,As like as potato can be to potato,Save in one point alone; and it would be a pityIf that difference did not distinguish the City.

The City's the Model Republic ofPlato,

As like as potato can be to potato,

Save in one point alone; and it would be a pity

If that difference did not distinguish the City.

InPlato'sRepublic, all good things combining,That serve to the great ends of drinking and dining,No Poet was suffered his metres to mingleWith the clatter of plates, and the wine glasses' jingle.

InPlato'sRepublic, all good things combining,

That serve to the great ends of drinking and dining,

No Poet was suffered his metres to mingle

With the clatter of plates, and the wine glasses' jingle.

But London's good City a poet possessesWho sings its high deeds and its glory expresses,And graces its banquets, his brows bound with myrtle,Sucking up inspiration together with turtle.

But London's good City a poet possesses

Who sings its high deeds and its glory expresses,

And graces its banquets, his brows bound with myrtle,

Sucking up inspiration together with turtle.

That Poet—whose aim is existence to sweeten—Next day sings the praises of what he has eaten,Which by wholesale are bought by the rich CorporationAs the fairest account of the jollification.

That Poet—whose aim is existence to sweeten—

Next day sings the praises of what he has eaten,

Which by wholesale are bought by the rich Corporation

As the fairest account of the jollification.

At eighty-five, Fleet Street, this son ofApolloIndites, each November, the Song of the Swallow;His muse every bookseller's counter encumbers,But his friends in the City buy up all his numbers.

At eighty-five, Fleet Street, this son ofApollo

Indites, each November, the Song of the Swallow;

His muse every bookseller's counter encumbers,

But his friends in the City buy up all his numbers.

A recipe, from a Neapolitan pen, authorized byKing Bomba, of Naples!

"Take the English people, strip 'em, rob 'em, kick 'em out of England, making of 'em—even as the Hebrews—dealers in hare-skins and old clothes! When this is done, take London, and turn it topsy-turvy, ruinous like Jerusalem! Let the English House of Commons sit by the waters of the Danube and weep; and let English Bishops sell maccaroni, and English merchants vend water-melons to theLazzaroniof Naples! Then Europe will be safe. When the House of Hanover is placed upon a cinder-heap of Mount Vesuvius, then may Europe, in the depths of her tranquillity, sweetly rejoice!"

And theKing of Naplesread the foregoing, and said "Let it be forthwith printed, and letBritanniaforthwith prepare herself to become a Jewess." Only to think—the British Lion a Lion of Judah! The White Horse of Hanover, a Jerusalem Pony!

(Respectfully dedicated to the author of "The Newcomes.")Mr. Punchsings.

Our future Premier, laughing free, I've got my eye upon,I think you'll all agree with me—his name isP-lm-rston.And by his side sits sleepily a lord in Scotland bred;I think you'll all agree with me—that he were best in bed.

Our future Premier, laughing free, I've got my eye upon,

I think you'll all agree with me—his name isP-lm-rston.

And by his side sits sleepily a lord in Scotland bred;

I think you'll all agree with me—that he were best in bed.

Chorus by the Nation.

O yes, we all agree with you that he were best in bed.

A new religious book is now being advertised under the illuminating title of "The Lamp and the Lantern, a Light for the Tent and the Traveller." If our Exeter Hall friends are in want of quaint titles, we beg leave to suggest "The Bull's Eye and the Dip," or "ThePriceand thePalmer," or "The Long Four and the Short Six," or "The Kitchen and the Composite."

TheQuarterlymakes answer,

"Chemically speaking, a man is 45 lbs. of carbon and nitrogen diffused through 5½ pailfuls of water."

This must be wrong. If no hemp, how do you get your Russian? If no wood, how do you get your Austrian? If no red-tape, how does Downing Street get her Englishmen?

Q.WhenOthellokilledDesdemona, was he thinking of his Wife?

A.No—his (s)Mother.

The Great Eastern Question(at all political dinners). "Is there any Turkey left?"

CRUEL KING COAL

Cruel King Coalover London townEvermore year by year doth reign;He is dight in a rich and goodly gown,And he sporteth a monstrous golden chain.Cruel King Coaldoth his greatness airIn a flaming coach of state reclined;And before him the Mace and Sword they bear,And the little boys run and shout behind.How did it happen to thisKing CoalThat he came to be called by the name of Cruel?'Twas because the old tyrant cribbed and stole,By his cunning contrivance, poor men's fuel.Cruel King Coaland his merry men,Twenty and five fat rogues were they,Cabbaged fourpence a chaldron first, then ten,And a penny to boot made poor folks pay.Measuring that which they never mete.Making good losses themselves should stand,And rebuilding here and there a street,Were the pretexts alleged by the worthy band.Even the load that a donkey draws,These fellows do tax, and tithe, and toll,Twenty miles around London Town; by lawsThrough Parliament slipped by slyKing Coal.Picking and filching, this cruel KingFirst on all coals that were sea-borne preyed;Next upon such as canal did bring,Then on those byQueen'shighway and rail conveyed.Twenty fair miles as the road did wind,He levied the tax in time gone by;But the Commons his art contrived to blind,And the distance is now as crow doth fly.Drawback His Majesty granteth notTwenty good tons on a weight below;And the boiling of every humble potThe old fellow doth render the dearer so.Cruel King Coaldoth feed and stuff,Revel and riot in each man's scuttle;Eat and drink when he's more than full enough,Cram, guzzle, and gorge, and swill, and guttle.Cruel King Coalshall we suffer moreTo blow himself out by extortion dire?Shall we let him continue to starve the poorBy the tax that he takes from their bit of fire?

Cruel King Coalover London townEvermore year by year doth reign;He is dight in a rich and goodly gown,And he sporteth a monstrous golden chain.

Cruel King Coalover London town

Evermore year by year doth reign;

He is dight in a rich and goodly gown,

And he sporteth a monstrous golden chain.

Cruel King Coaldoth his greatness airIn a flaming coach of state reclined;And before him the Mace and Sword they bear,And the little boys run and shout behind.

Cruel King Coaldoth his greatness air

In a flaming coach of state reclined;

And before him the Mace and Sword they bear,

And the little boys run and shout behind.

How did it happen to thisKing CoalThat he came to be called by the name of Cruel?'Twas because the old tyrant cribbed and stole,By his cunning contrivance, poor men's fuel.

How did it happen to thisKing Coal

That he came to be called by the name of Cruel?

'Twas because the old tyrant cribbed and stole,

By his cunning contrivance, poor men's fuel.

Cruel King Coaland his merry men,Twenty and five fat rogues were they,Cabbaged fourpence a chaldron first, then ten,And a penny to boot made poor folks pay.

Cruel King Coaland his merry men,

Twenty and five fat rogues were they,

Cabbaged fourpence a chaldron first, then ten,

And a penny to boot made poor folks pay.

Measuring that which they never mete.Making good losses themselves should stand,And rebuilding here and there a street,Were the pretexts alleged by the worthy band.

Measuring that which they never mete.

Making good losses themselves should stand,

And rebuilding here and there a street,

Were the pretexts alleged by the worthy band.

Even the load that a donkey draws,These fellows do tax, and tithe, and toll,Twenty miles around London Town; by lawsThrough Parliament slipped by slyKing Coal.

Even the load that a donkey draws,

These fellows do tax, and tithe, and toll,

Twenty miles around London Town; by laws

Through Parliament slipped by slyKing Coal.

Picking and filching, this cruel KingFirst on all coals that were sea-borne preyed;Next upon such as canal did bring,Then on those byQueen'shighway and rail conveyed.

Picking and filching, this cruel King

First on all coals that were sea-borne preyed;

Next upon such as canal did bring,

Then on those byQueen'shighway and rail conveyed.

Twenty fair miles as the road did wind,He levied the tax in time gone by;But the Commons his art contrived to blind,And the distance is now as crow doth fly.

Twenty fair miles as the road did wind,

He levied the tax in time gone by;

But the Commons his art contrived to blind,

And the distance is now as crow doth fly.

Drawback His Majesty granteth notTwenty good tons on a weight below;And the boiling of every humble potThe old fellow doth render the dearer so.

Drawback His Majesty granteth not

Twenty good tons on a weight below;

And the boiling of every humble pot

The old fellow doth render the dearer so.

Cruel King Coaldoth feed and stuff,Revel and riot in each man's scuttle;Eat and drink when he's more than full enough,Cram, guzzle, and gorge, and swill, and guttle.

Cruel King Coaldoth feed and stuff,

Revel and riot in each man's scuttle;

Eat and drink when he's more than full enough,

Cram, guzzle, and gorge, and swill, and guttle.

Cruel King Coalshall we suffer moreTo blow himself out by extortion dire?Shall we let him continue to starve the poorBy the tax that he takes from their bit of fire?

Cruel King Coalshall we suffer more

To blow himself out by extortion dire?

Shall we let him continue to starve the poor

By the tax that he takes from their bit of fire?

"Yeast Lain, Grinnidge, seckund November, hatingfiftethre.

"Meddam,

"Haskin parding for the libbaty hime takin, I opes u will use yer influenzer with yer husband, wich its wot hevery lorful marred oman ort to ave tho they do say he use u shameful in publick, but ave no dout he gets his clippins at ome, and get him to print my letter wich I here some vartuous pussons wants us to ave a day of fastin an hewmilliashun, as a purwentive to the collerher, tho my husban hoo is a plane man, in respek of bein a carpingter by trade, but can rede an rite, did see in the papers that the workin classes ort to ave a plane and modderit dyeit in these times. Now Meddam I ham a pore oman, with siks children an a husban not over strong on account of workin twelve hours a day on wun mele, an hime sure hever sins I leffReverend Slocum Smith'swere I lived coke at fiften pund a yere, tee and shewgar fund an all parkisites, ceptin follerhers alloud, I ave never none wot it is to be without a happetite, wich if hany one thinks it a blessin, Ide giv em mine hany day and thankful too, for a lofe of bred. Likeaways wouldJon. Likeaways would our siks children, wich I ave ad twelve, but siks on em dide, as the doctor sed of my asthma, tho I carnt see ow that cood a been, as I never wos asmatic, but think their deths was caused by the bad hare in our place, and the smells, an bein nussed so low, an put to slepe on Daffy for twelve hours wen I wos out a charin at hateen pence a day an my kepe wich if u ever wants any charin done, I can ave the best of karacters. An its hall werry well for them as as their cup of tee an their butturd tostes bifor their hup in the mornin, an their cold shiken an briled bones at breakfast, and a bit o cake an a glass o jellee atween breakfast an lunch, an a lunch of ot mete and pertaties, wich it is called the children's dinner, but the parents jines in it, an a snack o suffin between lunch an dinner, just to kepe hoff the sinkin from their pore weke stommicks, an a dinner of thre coarses an a dissurt, an toste an muffins at tee, an maybe a little kneegus or sperrits at bed time to kepe it hall down, and then a crust o bred in their bed rooms lest they shood feel faint in the nite—hits werry well for them to fast, if they likes it, for they've plenty of food to fall bak on, and wood honely go to their wittles fresher nex day, like sum I wuns lived with but wonte name, as made hup in Heester for wot they didnt hete in Lent. But if we wos to fast, hose lives is little better than a perpetiwal fast, I donte think the hempty stummicks of our pore littel babes would ever cum to again. An has for hewmilliashun, ifMissus Reverend Slocum Smith'scoold honely go hout a charin for a month, and be put upon by servants, (as I wos wuns the hequal hof,) an be snubbed by Missusses, an sumtimes ave her litel earnins stood hover from Saturday nite till Monday mornin, or longer wich it haint oncommon, an not a bit of bred in the house, nor nothin to spout, she wooldunt want no more humilliashun. An has for fastin bein a Christian hact, I no asJonan me an our siks children, have been a fastin hever so long an donte feel no better Christens for that, but quite the contrairy wich hany one as will try it long will find the same. So I do ope Meddam, that ure husban will tell them as wants to fast an thinks they'll be the better for it to give their soup or fluities (wotever they be) to hus as donte want to fast no more, and would be more in charity with hour speshus, if we wosn't halways so huncommon hungry. I ham with 'umbel dooty to ure husband, wich he looked as brisk as hever wen I see im last,

"Your hobedt. chare'oman,

"Jane Gimlet."

"I can assure you," says A. softly and persuasively, "there is not an entire headache in the whole bottle." "Not an entire headache perhaps," answers B., knowingly, "for all the headaches in it may be splitting ones."

A Moral Phenomenon.—A Barrister returning his Fee.

TOO FASTIDIOUS.TOO FASTIDIOUS.Scene.—A Tavern.Waiter."'Am, Sir? Yessir? Don't take anything with your 'Am, do you, Sir?"Gentleman."Yes, I do; I take the letter H!" [Waiter faints.]

Scene.—A Tavern.

Waiter."'Am, Sir? Yessir? Don't take anything with your 'Am, do you, Sir?"

Gentleman."Yes, I do; I take the letter H!" [Waiter faints.]

SinceLord Palmerstonsaid, in his speech at Perth, that he was always happy to receive suggestions, and to read the correspondence that individuals might favour him with, he has been overwhelmed with letters upon all imaginable and unimaginable subjects. The consequence is he has been obliged to employ three additional secretaries, who are engaged night and day answering the stupid questions that are put to him. The following may be relied upon as a fair sample of the nonsensical inquiries he is favoured with:—

Latakia.—You are right. There is no doubt that there is a little settlement to be found in all Ports—but this does not apply to the Sublime Porte; for in spite of all the shaking and stirring it has lately received, I cannot see the smallest hope of a settlement.Rosa Matilda.—You ask me, my young lady, what is the best ink for writing love-letters with? I am sorry I cannot inform you, as it is now many years ago, in consequence of the graver cares of office, since I have abandoned the foolish practice.Thespis.—It is more than I can tell you what kind ofBrookehas caused Drury Lane to overflow every night. I have not been to the theatre this season, and so I cannot inform you whether theBrookein question was deep, or merely a shallowBrooke, or a roaringBrooke, or in fact what particular kind ofBrookeit was; but from all the reports I have heard, some of which have been very loud, I should hardly say it was "the murmuringBrooke."Debrett.—I cannot tell youLord Brougham'shabitual residence; but, looking at his trousers, I should say it was generally on the other side of the Tweed.One who is fond of Digging for Roots.—I should say, from your foolish question, that the place where you dig most must be a garden full of simples. How can I say whether "toggery" is derived from the Latin wordtoga? Or whetherClytemnestra, when she was on the point of stabbing her son, exclaimed "Au Reste?" Or whether a cross-examination is so called, because it generally has the effect of making a person "cross?" I wonder you are not ashamed of yourself putting such insipid questions to one ofHer Majesty'sMinisters.A Public Journalist.—Lord Palmerstonis extremely sorry he cannot give the name of the "Old Woman who lived in a shoe," and he doubts very strongly in his own mind if any old woman ever chose such a curious locality for a habitation. Perhaps—and this is merely thrown out as a conjecture—it may refer toMrs. Gamp, of theMorning Herald, and who lives in Shoe Lane; but then the song should run, "There was an old woman, who lived in Shoe Lane," and unfortunately it doesn't.Horticulturalist.—The apple of discord was doubtlessly, my dear, a crab-apple; but it is beyond me to say whetherVenus, in accepting it, was a naughty-culturist; but I can only say, from my own experience, that it is not the first time by many that Paris has been the cause of throwing the apple of discord—witness the Spanish Marriage."Et tu Quoque."—It would ill become me, in my position, to offer any opinion upon the conduct of a fellow-colleague, so you must excuse me if I decline answering your inquiry whetherLord Aberdeenis not "the injudicious bottle-holder of the Porte." I should be sorry to accept a compliment at the expense of a man whom I so highly—but never mind the rest.Fiddle-de-dee.—I will write toLord Westmorelandat the earliest opportunity to inquire whether he is composing variations on the tune of "Pop Goes the Weasel," but I doubt it extremely. Your other question of whether a man who gives his mind to a violin can be a clever ambassador, I decline answering."That's the Way the Money Goes."—You ask me—why I don't know—the reason why "tin" should be the vulgar synonym for money. It defies my powers of divination to tell you, unless it originated from the fact of the purses which are thrown away upon the stage, and which generally contain from ten thousand ducats to a hundred thousand pounds, being always filled with pieces oftin. Hence probably the synonym.One who Dabbles in Ink.—I do not mind telling you in confidence thatLord Broughamisnotthe Editor of theFamily Herald.A Victim to the East Wind.—The best plan, my dear young lady, for keeping the chaps off your lips is to wear a respirator.

Rosa Matilda.—You ask me, my young lady, what is the best ink for writing love-letters with? I am sorry I cannot inform you, as it is now many years ago, in consequence of the graver cares of office, since I have abandoned the foolish practice.

Thespis.—It is more than I can tell you what kind ofBrookehas caused Drury Lane to overflow every night. I have not been to the theatre this season, and so I cannot inform you whether theBrookein question was deep, or merely a shallowBrooke, or a roaringBrooke, or in fact what particular kind ofBrookeit was; but from all the reports I have heard, some of which have been very loud, I should hardly say it was "the murmuringBrooke."

Debrett.—I cannot tell youLord Brougham'shabitual residence; but, looking at his trousers, I should say it was generally on the other side of the Tweed.

One who is fond of Digging for Roots.—I should say, from your foolish question, that the place where you dig most must be a garden full of simples. How can I say whether "toggery" is derived from the Latin wordtoga? Or whetherClytemnestra, when she was on the point of stabbing her son, exclaimed "Au Reste?" Or whether a cross-examination is so called, because it generally has the effect of making a person "cross?" I wonder you are not ashamed of yourself putting such insipid questions to one ofHer Majesty'sMinisters.

A Public Journalist.—Lord Palmerstonis extremely sorry he cannot give the name of the "Old Woman who lived in a shoe," and he doubts very strongly in his own mind if any old woman ever chose such a curious locality for a habitation. Perhaps—and this is merely thrown out as a conjecture—it may refer toMrs. Gamp, of theMorning Herald, and who lives in Shoe Lane; but then the song should run, "There was an old woman, who lived in Shoe Lane," and unfortunately it doesn't.

Horticulturalist.—The apple of discord was doubtlessly, my dear, a crab-apple; but it is beyond me to say whetherVenus, in accepting it, was a naughty-culturist; but I can only say, from my own experience, that it is not the first time by many that Paris has been the cause of throwing the apple of discord—witness the Spanish Marriage.

"Et tu Quoque."—It would ill become me, in my position, to offer any opinion upon the conduct of a fellow-colleague, so you must excuse me if I decline answering your inquiry whetherLord Aberdeenis not "the injudicious bottle-holder of the Porte." I should be sorry to accept a compliment at the expense of a man whom I so highly—but never mind the rest.

Fiddle-de-dee.—I will write toLord Westmorelandat the earliest opportunity to inquire whether he is composing variations on the tune of "Pop Goes the Weasel," but I doubt it extremely. Your other question of whether a man who gives his mind to a violin can be a clever ambassador, I decline answering.

"That's the Way the Money Goes."—You ask me—why I don't know—the reason why "tin" should be the vulgar synonym for money. It defies my powers of divination to tell you, unless it originated from the fact of the purses which are thrown away upon the stage, and which generally contain from ten thousand ducats to a hundred thousand pounds, being always filled with pieces oftin. Hence probably the synonym.

One who Dabbles in Ink.—I do not mind telling you in confidence thatLord Broughamisnotthe Editor of theFamily Herald.

A Victim to the East Wind.—The best plan, my dear young lady, for keeping the chaps off your lips is to wear a respirator.

Air—"See the course throng'd with gazers, the sports are begun."—C. Dibdin.

Since of course we want razors when manhood's begun,Lest profusion of beard should our faces o'errun,A thousand strange methods are found every year,AndMechiandRodgersassail our young ear.When we next, like a vain beau, direct that our crest,Silver-mounted, should be on the handle impressed,Scarcely scraping a hair in our downy estate,The High-Mettled Razor first ranks among plate.The next ten years turn out, and we need not now blush,To be caught when we're soaping our beard with a brush;For wehaveone at length, and we need not say nay,Should any one ask if we shave every day.While alike born for scrapes in our life's daily course,Always sure to come through with a cut, if not worse;When we're barely shaved down just to what Fashion saith,The High-Mettled Razor now bores us to death.Grown rusty, used up, and turned dull as a spud,Notched, blunted, and, always when used, drawing blood;While, knowing his past deeds, his misdeeds we trace,Tell, "this notch cut my finger, and this cut my face;"And what dangers we've run, we could quickly count o'er,As we wasted our time, and our temper, and gore;When the shaving doth gall, and the steel our chins goad,The High-Mettled Razor's put out of the road.At length they've improved it, before 'tis top late,AndMechiandRodgersmust bend to their fate,And barbers will soon have to work the treadmill,If their razors are brought to a daily stand still.For now, with its works nearly hid from our view,In the very same chair in which we must sit too,While a music-box plays like a musical elf,The High-Mettled Razor dothshave us itself!

Since of course we want razors when manhood's begun,

Lest profusion of beard should our faces o'errun,

A thousand strange methods are found every year,

AndMechiandRodgersassail our young ear.

When we next, like a vain beau, direct that our crest,

Silver-mounted, should be on the handle impressed,

Scarcely scraping a hair in our downy estate,

The High-Mettled Razor first ranks among plate.

The next ten years turn out, and we need not now blush,To be caught when we're soaping our beard with a brush;For wehaveone at length, and we need not say nay,Should any one ask if we shave every day.While alike born for scrapes in our life's daily course,Always sure to come through with a cut, if not worse;When we're barely shaved down just to what Fashion saith,The High-Mettled Razor now bores us to death.

The next ten years turn out, and we need not now blush,

To be caught when we're soaping our beard with a brush;

For wehaveone at length, and we need not say nay,

Should any one ask if we shave every day.

While alike born for scrapes in our life's daily course,

Always sure to come through with a cut, if not worse;

When we're barely shaved down just to what Fashion saith,

The High-Mettled Razor now bores us to death.

Grown rusty, used up, and turned dull as a spud,Notched, blunted, and, always when used, drawing blood;While, knowing his past deeds, his misdeeds we trace,Tell, "this notch cut my finger, and this cut my face;"And what dangers we've run, we could quickly count o'er,As we wasted our time, and our temper, and gore;When the shaving doth gall, and the steel our chins goad,The High-Mettled Razor's put out of the road.

Grown rusty, used up, and turned dull as a spud,

Notched, blunted, and, always when used, drawing blood;

While, knowing his past deeds, his misdeeds we trace,

Tell, "this notch cut my finger, and this cut my face;"

And what dangers we've run, we could quickly count o'er,

As we wasted our time, and our temper, and gore;

When the shaving doth gall, and the steel our chins goad,

The High-Mettled Razor's put out of the road.

At length they've improved it, before 'tis top late,AndMechiandRodgersmust bend to their fate,And barbers will soon have to work the treadmill,If their razors are brought to a daily stand still.For now, with its works nearly hid from our view,In the very same chair in which we must sit too,While a music-box plays like a musical elf,The High-Mettled Razor dothshave us itself!

At length they've improved it, before 'tis top late,

AndMechiandRodgersmust bend to their fate,

And barbers will soon have to work the treadmill,

If their razors are brought to a daily stand still.

For now, with its works nearly hid from our view,

In the very same chair in which we must sit too,

While a music-box plays like a musical elf,

The High-Mettled Razor dothshave us itself!

Why cannot a "Constant Reader" write a letter to a newspaper without an allusion to its "widely circulated columns?"

Why can a young gentleman never take to yachting without strengthening his language with "fo'ksle" expletives?

Why at a dinner party is it never thought permissible to call for cabbage except by its genteel synonym of "greens?"

Why does a cabman consider he degrades himself by acting civilly?

Why in a lodging-house can you never get your shaving-water without ringing twice for it?

Why do people with the smallest rooms invariably give the largest parties?

Why cannot musical critics speak of a voice without puzzling everybody by calling it an "organ?"

Why do fashionable people consider they losecasteby writing legibly?

Why cannot a husband get home late from a dinner-party without assuring his wife he was "the first to leave?"

And why cannot a wife inflict a "charring-day" upon her husband without the additional torture of a cold leg of mutton?

Great Theatrical Strike.—A Combat of Six at the Victoria.

LORD SID-NEE'S SHOWThe Ardent Lover,Ching-Bang-Bung,at present residing among the island Barbarians, writes to the Star of his Brain,Lollum Squinnyi,daughter ofHango Jowdob,wealthy merchant of Tseen-ki, with a wart on his nose.

The Ardent Lover,Ching-Bang-Bung,at present residing among the island Barbarians, writes to the Star of his Brain,Lollum Squinnyi,daughter ofHango Jowdob,wealthy merchant of Tseen-ki, with a wart on his nose.

Moonlight on the Waters of my Soul,

"Adoring your silver slipper with its buckle of emeralds, profoundly respecting the gilded toad which lies before your cerulean door in the light of a scraper, nay, venerating the marble slab that forms the threshold of the house where lives the angelic daughter ofHango Jowdobwith the wart on his nose, I send you this illuminated rescript. Honour it.

"Yesterday, OLollum, was a festival among these barbarians, and the Chief Magistrate of their chief city went in procession to swear oaths, and to bid other judges to devour sea-tortoises with him. A scribe namedPunch, and altogether the wisest and comeliest man I have ever seen (exceptingHango Jowdob, with the wart on his nose, who will probably read this) gave me a seat in his mansion, which overlooketh the highway. ByCon-fu-zee,O Lollum, but these barbarians have something in them, after all. Their Chief Magistrate is a vendor of teas, and the array was got up to remind the spectators of the Flowery Land whence cometh the fragrant leaf; in short, it was a gorgeous advertisement of his profession.

"Wisely taking example from the wisest nation of earth, they have sought to liken their procession unto what they deem to be Chinese. Poor savages, they make sad blunders; but our religion teaches us to be charitable, and to pity rather than ridicule the benighted heathens, who have not a pagoda in their land, save a miserable one in some gardens they call Q. Yesterday they exhibited strange mockeries of our Chinese forms; but still the good will was there, and we will not mock them in return, but try to teach them better.

"There were shields with faces, as of moons and devils, and dragon-banners, with bells, and other imitations of us; but the artistic design and the classical execution were wanting, myLollum. The Chief Magistrate himself rode in a carriage formed like a gigantic tea-pot; and before and behind him came standards, on which were emblazoned the prices of his goods. Two huge idols, worshipped by the Fathers of the City, with costly orgies, were borne along, with Chinese adornments; and numerous other devices reminded me of the land where dwelleth the lovely daughter ofHango Jowdobwith the wart on his nose.

"They are all traders, these barbarians, and one of the ancestors of this Magistrate, whose name isSid-Nee, was a great layer of bricks, as I gather, for he is often spoken of, by public-house orators, as 'Sid-Neeon the Scaffold.'

"Lollumof my Soul! Light breaking in at the Chink of my Heart! Violet of my Nostrils! Pickled Duck of my Affections! Water-lily floating on the waves of my Life! Whitest Egg in the Nest of my Brain! I worship your image, and I kiss the rice-paper which enfolds the eyelash you gave me at parting. When shall your eyes sparkle into mine, and set all the fireworks of my soul fizzing, and banging, and sparkling? Eleven millions of highly polished compliments to the respectableHango Jowdobwith the wart on his nose.

"Signed in England, the day after the Feast of theLord Sid-Nee, Mare of London.

"Ching-Bang-Bung."

Directions for Shaving the Ladies.—Use plenty of soft soap—use it unsparingly to their faces—and it's wonderful how clean you'll shave them.—A Linendraper's Assistant from Howellanjames.

Mistaken Benevolence.—Throwing Early Purl to Swine.

Now, Mum! What's the matter?Policeman."Now, Mum! What's the matter?"Injured Female."If you please, Mister—I want to give my wretch of a 'usband in charge. He's always a knocking of me down and a stampin' on me!"

Policeman."Now, Mum! What's the matter?"

Injured Female."If you please, Mister—I want to give my wretch of a 'usband in charge. He's always a knocking of me down and a stampin' on me!"

(Communicated by the Edinburgh Society for Promoting Civilization in England)

O mickle yeuks the keckle doup,An' a' unsicker girns the graith,For wae and wae! the crowdies loupO'er jouk an' hallan, braw an' baith.Where ance the coggie hirpled fair,And blithesome poortith toomed the loof,There's nae a burnie giglet rareBut blaws in ilka jinking coof.The routhie bield that gars the gearIs gane where glint the pawky een,And aye the stound is birkin learWhere sconnered yowies wheeped yestreen.The creeshie rax wi' skelpin' kaesNae mair the howdie bicker whangs,Nor weanies in their wee bit claesGlour light as lammies wi' their sangs.Yet leeze me on my bonnie byke!My drappie aiblins blinks the noo,An' leesome luve has lapt the dykeForgatherin' just a wee bit fou.AndScotia! while thy rantin' luntIs mirk and moop with gowans fine,I'll stowlins pit my unco brunt,An' cleek my duds for auld lang syne.

O mickle yeuks the keckle doup,

An' a' unsicker girns the graith,

For wae and wae! the crowdies loup

O'er jouk an' hallan, braw an' baith.

Where ance the coggie hirpled fair,

And blithesome poortith toomed the loof,

There's nae a burnie giglet rare

But blaws in ilka jinking coof.

The routhie bield that gars the gearIs gane where glint the pawky een,And aye the stound is birkin learWhere sconnered yowies wheeped yestreen.The creeshie rax wi' skelpin' kaesNae mair the howdie bicker whangs,Nor weanies in their wee bit claesGlour light as lammies wi' their sangs.

The routhie bield that gars the gear

Is gane where glint the pawky een,

And aye the stound is birkin lear

Where sconnered yowies wheeped yestreen.

The creeshie rax wi' skelpin' kaes

Nae mair the howdie bicker whangs,

Nor weanies in their wee bit claes

Glour light as lammies wi' their sangs.

Yet leeze me on my bonnie byke!My drappie aiblins blinks the noo,An' leesome luve has lapt the dykeForgatherin' just a wee bit fou.AndScotia! while thy rantin' luntIs mirk and moop with gowans fine,I'll stowlins pit my unco brunt,An' cleek my duds for auld lang syne.

Yet leeze me on my bonnie byke!

My drappie aiblins blinks the noo,

An' leesome luve has lapt the dyke

Forgatherin' just a wee bit fou.

AndScotia! while thy rantin' lunt

Is mirk and moop with gowans fine,

I'll stowlins pit my unco brunt,

An' cleek my duds for auld lang syne.

TheNew Prussian Gazetteof Berlin says:—

"Several Turkish and Wallachian merchants have arrived here to pay their debts. This case several times occurred during the wars of Turkey with a European power. Turks have come and paid their debts at the risk of their lives in crossing through the enemy's camp."

When this paragraph was read upon 'Change, a melancholy, wan-looking man said with a sigh, "I don't wish any harm to Her Catholic Majesty's Ministers; but I do wish that, if only to relieve us of our bonds, certain Spaniards would, just for the occasion, become Mahometans." CertainlyNarvaezin a fez would create a sensation in the City.

Some new lights have been thrown on the position of theLord Mayorby the evidence given before the Corporation Commission which is now sitting. TheLord Mayorseems to be a mixture of degradation and dignity—a species of civic Centaur—a kind of neither one thing nor the other, or rather a sort of both—a combination of the flunkey and the potentate, which it would be difficult to analyse. At the Mansion House dinner he is a Monarch, but at the Coronation banquet he is a Butler, in virtue of which menial occupation he takes a golden tankard home to clean, and then claiming it as a perquisite, he never brings it back again. Why theLord Mayorshould appropriate a bit of the plate because he is acting as Butler, is as much a mystery to us, as it would be if the man we paid to wait when we give a dinner-party were to walk off with our best piece of plate—our sugar-tongs, which are real, all the rest being electro—under the paltry subterfuge of its being a "perquisite." We can only say that if theLord Mayorwere to be stopped on his way from the Coronation banquet with the golden tankard in his pocket or under his arm, it would require nothing short of the production of the original charter, to satisfy the police that he had lawful possession of the property.

It appears also that theLord Mayoris a Privy Councillor, but is so completely cut in that capacity that he is never summoned to attend, and the probability is, that if his Lordship were to present himself for admission he would have the door shut in his face by the "proper officers." It is, however, inconvenient that those dignities should nominally attach to an individual who is not permitted to use them, and we can only compliment those who have held the office ofLord Mayor, on their good sense in not bringing on an unseemly altercation with the royal porters and door-keepers, by attempting to "get in" when a Privy Council is sitting. There is no doubt that if "his Lordship" were to force a passage up into the Council Chamber, and attempt to take his seat at the Board, there would be a general cry of "turn him out" from the Cabinet Members. The absurdity of the situation is so apparent, and the incongruity of theLord Mayorat the Privy Council is so striking, that nobody can doubt the propriety of abolishing a nominal position, which only subjects its holder to ridicule.

The only real power that is still exercised by theLord Mayoris the right of shutting up Temple Bar when the Sovereign is expected; but since the side bar has been rented by a loyal hair-dresser, who would assuredly let the monarch through his shop—if any serious obstacle were to be offered by the civic authorities—it is high time that even this dim branch of the civic prerogative were lopped off by the axe of Improvement, that judicious woodsman, who spares nothing superfluous.

The French, in a great victory over the Arabs, "have captured 4,000 sheep." What will they do with these 4,000 prisoners of war? Will they drive them to market, and sell them for what they will fetch, or will they turn them intogigotsandcotelettes?Will they preserve their fleeces as trophies, and hang them up in the Invalides? What will they do with the tallow? Will they melt it into candles, and send them as altar-offerings to thePopeto solicit his blessing on their Algerian campaigns? These questions are difficult to answer, and in the meantime the poor sheep, recollecting the deeds ofBugeaudandPélissier, must tremble in their skins every time they see the steel of the Frenchmen. For ourselves, we believe the lives of the 4,000 sheep will be spared by the French, out of their noble anxiety to prove to Europe that warfare can be carried on in Algeria without butchery.

Somebody has brought out a collection of the "Songs of Scotland without Words." In order to render the thing completely agreeable, we would propose that the songs without words should be set to bagpipes without sound, and sung by performers without voices.

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