* * * * *

Theft Extraordinary.

A weekly journal gravely informs a correspondent that “the line, ’A thing of beauty is a joy forever,’ occurs in TUPPER’s Proverbial Philosophy.”

Shades of the poets!  More than fifty years ago, JOHN KEATS commenced a poem called “Endymion,” with that very line.  To think that he should have gone and borrowed it from TUPPER!

* * * * *

Politician’s Plant.

See WEED.

* * * * *

[Illustration: 

THE LATEST MELODRAMATIC DODGE OF A PLAYED-OUT POLITICIAN.

PROMPTER DANA, OF THE “SUN,” GIVES THE CUE TO A REAL SKELETON.]

* * * * *

Conversion of the “Sun.”

It was said of Bishop COLENSO that he “undertook to convert a Zulu
Kaffir, but the Z. K. converted him.”

Such a circumstance may be fallen upon without going so far as Africa to seek for it.  JOHN ALLEN, of Water Street, was, once upon a time, the Zulu Kaffir of DANA of the Sun and his fascinating Satellite, OLIVER DYER.

The ways of JOHN ALLEN were very wicked when these pious missionaries threw themselves upon his trail, and tried to convert him.  Perhaps the reformatory effort was well meant; but, alas! for the feebleness of all human arrangements—­JOHN ALLEN remains the reprobate he was, while he to his flock has brought DANA, the Sun man, and DYER, the Satellite man, converts to the Allenian theory that money made from dirt is the only healthful stimulant to virtuous toil.

And so it was that DANA the devout, and DYER the saintly, went forth to convert the Zulu Kaffir of Water Street, and the Z. F. converted them.

* * * * *

Ready for Another Heat.

The horses of PHOEBUS.

* * * * *

A Royal Game.

The ex-queen of Spain fears that ALFONSO will be “euchred.”  She remarked to him recently, Play you’re king.

* * * * *

CONTEMPORARY SENTIMENTS,

On the Great War Question.

    “WILLIAM’S my man!” cries one enthusiast,—­
      “He’ll be in Paris, sure, within ten days!”
    “‘Paris’ your Granny!” cries one just as fast;
      “’Ere that, man! you’ll see Berlin in a blaze!”

    “France has the finest soldiers ever seen!”
      Says one who knows; “they never can be beat!”
    One who knows also, says, “the French are green! 
      Their only real strength is in their fleet!”

    “Oh, hang their fleet!” exclaims another man;
      “It’s useless now,—­it has no work to do! 
    But let France use her navy all she can,
      You’ll see if Prussia doesn’t put her through!”

    “Prussia ain’t able!” cries an eager one: 
      “Let her drink all the lager in her shops,
    She’ll find the little job is not yet done,
      For all there’s such enormous strength in hops!”