Ah AUNTIE! how’s your rheumatiz, this spring? 
      Well, Mr. JOHNSON, did you try that sling? 
      Why, this is Uncle STEVE!  How-do-you-do. 
      Uncle?  Sit down.  What can I do for you?

      Well, Mr. PRINCE!  You must be busy, now. 
      Whitewashing is the best thing done, I vow! 
      Why, hel-lo!  REGIS!  From the Cape so soon? 
      When do you open, this year—­first of June?

      Come, gentlemen—­some wine?  Now, don’t refuse! 
      What! temperate? teetotal?  Well, that’s news! 
      And good news, too!  Well, coffee, then.  You see,
      My friends, the sentiment’s the thing with me.

      The real Mocha, AUNTIE!  Simon pure! 
      Raised by free Arabs.  For I can’t endure
      A single thing that’s flavored with a Wrong! 
      Yes, AUNTIE, you are right, I’ve “come out strong!”

      So have the Colored People, I may say! 
      (One fact explains the other, up this way!)
      They’ve proved their strength!  It’s settled, sure as a gun,
      That every Colored Voter now counts One!

      Now, gentlemen, you’ll be surprised to find
      So many people with your turn of mind! 
      But, sure as tricks! remember what I say—­
      You’ll learn some things before Election Day!

      POMPEY—­’twon’t take much time, (and you can spare it!)
      Try this old fiddle, picked up in the garret! 
      Good?  It’s your fiddle!  AUNTIE, here’s a pound
      Of that same genuine Mocha, ready ground!

      Say, Uncle STEVE, I’ve got a fish for you,
      Down at the market.  Call again, PETE; do! 
      I’ll have a job for you and CAESAR soon: 
      It’s only waiting for a change of moon.

      CLEM, how’d you like a chance to wait on table? 
      Or, would you rather drive, and run my stable? 
      GEORGE, in the kitchen there’s a pan of souse! 
      Going?  All gone?  Now, BRIDGET, air the house!

* * * * *

Historic Parallel.

THE JACK CADE movement came near destroying London.  The Ar-Cade movement threatens to destroy Broadway.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  A CHEAP LUXURY.

SNIFFLES LOVES THE SMELL OF ROASTED CHESTNUTS, AND ENJOYS IT FOR HOURS EVERY DAY; BUT HE NEVER EATS ANY—­WHICH ACCOUNTS FOR THE JOYOUS EXPRESSION ON THE FACE OF THE VENDER.]

* * * * *

BUSINESS.

A CHICAGO LAY.

      I saw her sweet lip quiver,
        As he started for the store. 
      Because he hadn’t kissed her
        “Several” times or more.

      She cried “This horrid business!”
        And then flew to her glass;
      “Oh! why his cold remissness? 
        Have I grown plain, alas?”

      But no, that truthful article
        Revealed her charms intact,
      She hadn’t lost one particle,
        But had improved, in fact.