Two nominations which have been the cause of great satisfaction in diplomatic circle are those of Mr. MARK HAMBOURG to the Kingdom of Palestine, and that of M. MOISEIWITCH to the throne of the Solomon Islands. Jamborees of jubilation are already rife in the latter locality.
Sir HENRY WOOD has been simultaneously approached from two quarters. The leading citizens of Sonora have offered him the Presidentship of that interesting State. At the same time an urgent invitation has been sent to the eminent conductor offering him the throne of the Empire of Percussia. Sir HENRY’S decision is awaitod with feverish anxiety.
It is stated by the Corriere della Sera that Madame MELBA, the Australian nightingale, has been chosen to preside over the Jug-jugo-Slav Republic, while Madame CLARA BUTT has been unanimously elected Empress of Patagonia.
Sir THOMAS BEECHAM’S selection from among the candidates for the throne of New Guinea, is regarded as a foregone conclusion. The famous violinist, Mr. ALBERT SAMMONS, has so far returned no final answer to the offer of the Crown of Sordinia, but it is believed that he cannot long remain mute to the touching appeal of the signatories. A favourable answer is also expected from Mlle. Jelly Aranyi, who has been nominated Queen of Guava.
On the other hand Sir EDWARD ELGAR, O.M., has steadfastly declined the Tsardom of Bulgaria, even though it was proposed to change the name of the country to Elgaria.
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[Illustration: Milliner. “HOW DOES MODOM LIKE THIS LITTLE BIRD OF PARADISE MODEL? IT BECOMES MODOM VERY WELL.”
Customer. “YES, IT IS RATHER NICE, BUT (remembers her obligations as a mother) HOW MANY COUPONS?”]
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TO AN EGYPTIAN BOY.
Child of the gorgeous East, whose ardent
suns
Have kissed thy velvet skin
to deeper lustre
And given thine
almond eyes
A look more calm
and wise
Than any we pale Westerners
can muster,
Alas! my mean intelligence affords
No clue to grasp the meaning of the words
Which vehemently from thy
larynx leap.
How is it that the liquid language runs?
“Nai—sori
ng—trif—erwonbi—aster—ferish—ip.”
E’en so, methinks, did CLEOPATRA
WOO
Her vanquished victor, couched
on scented roses,
And PHARAOH from
his throne
With more imperious
tone
Addressed in some such terms
rebellious MOSES;
And esoteric priests in Theban shrines,
Their ritual conned from hieroglyphic
signs,
Thus muttered incantations
dark and deep
To Isis and Osiris, Thoth and Shu:
“Nai—sori
ng—trif—erwonbi—aster—ferish—ip.”