will be present, we intends to hinterduce ‘The Loving Cup;’ not,” he added, smiling, “so much to estonish the natives, as to stagger the strangers.  The question, therefore, that you, as the leading Citty Waiter of the day, have to settle, is, How many of the Gests stand up while one on ’em drinks?” Delighted to find how heasy was my tarsk, I ansers, without a moment’s hezzitation, “Three!” One on ’em turned garstly pale, and shouted out, “What for?” To which I replied, “One to take off and hold up the cover, the second to bow, and drink out of the Cup, and the third to protect the Drinker while he drinks, lest any ennemy should stab him in the back.”

The garstly pale Gent wanted to arsk more questions, but the rest shouted, “Horder!  Horder!” and the fust Gent coming up to me again, thanked me for what he called my kindness in cumming, so I made ’em my very best bow, which I copied from a certain Poplar Prince, and took my departure.

Being, I hopes, a man of strict werassity, I never wunce took ewen so much as a peep at the little packet as the Gent gave me, but I couldn’t help feeling ewery now and then to see if it was quite safe, which of course it was, and ewen when I reached my umbel abode, I still restrained my natral curiossity, and sat down, and told my wundrus tail to the wife of my buzzom, and then placed the little packet in her estonished ands, which she hopened with a slite flutter, and then perdoosed from it Five Golden Souverings! If any other noble swells wants another Humpire on the same libberal terms, let ’em send to ROBERT.

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[Illustration:  PHILOMELA AND AQUILA.

[It is stated that Madame PATTI presented Mr. GLADSTONE with a box of voice lozenges.]

  PATTI, take, PATTI, take, Grand Old Man! 
  Give him voice lozenges soon as you can. 
  Pack them, address them, as neat as can be,
  And courteously hand them to W.G.!

  Mellifluous Nightingale, melody’s source
  Our Golden (mouthed) Eagle hath grown a bit hoarse;
  But though Aquila’s husky with age and long fights,
  His sweet Philomela will set him to-rights.

  A cough-drop, a lozenge, a jube-jube, from you,
  His larynx will strengthen and lubricate too. 
  His old “Camp Town Races” he’ll pipe again yet;
  Nay—­who knows?—­with you may arrange a duet!

  The eagle is scarcely a song-bird, but still,
  He may have a good ear for the nightingale’s trill! 
  Fair Philomel comes to old Aquila’s aid!!! 
  Faith! the picture is pretty, so here ’tis portrayed?
]

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[Illustration:  CLEOPATRA IN PARIS.  The true History.  Queen Cleopatra dying from the effects of several Bites of Asp-aragus.  Or is it truer that Queen Cleopatra died from eating too much of something “En Aspic”?  Ask Sardou, Sara, & Co.]

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