And, ah, how lightly the minutes fly, that once seemed heavy as lead,
  And the sleeper is fitfully tossing, alone on her prison bed. 
  At the hour of eight must the journey be, when the passing bell doth toll,
  And God, it may be, who is merciful, will pity a sinful soul,
  “Arise,” they say, “for you know full well who waits at the outer gate,
  With sheriffs to do his bidding, behold he is come in state. 
  The time is short, and the minutes fly, but ere we forget it, stay,
  We must introduce the Ambassador in a semi-official way.”

* * * * *

POLITE JUDGMENT.—­A correspondence has been going on in the St. James’s Gazette as to what six Gentlemen seated in a first class railway carriage ought to do if a Lady insists on thrusting herself upon them. Truth says, let her stand, unless she has been invited, and adds, that anyhow she, as an extra person, is a nuisance. Mr. Punch agrees with a difference, and says that the uninvited intruder who becomes a standing nuisance ought to be put down—­by somebody giving her a seat.

* * * * *

COMPENSATION.

(SOLILOQUY OF SMELFUNGUS WHILST LOOKING AT THE PICTORIAL PAPERS.)

  Yes, it’s an ill-wind that blows nobody good,
    Discomfort could hardly be greater,
  For home-staying fogies of mollyish mood,
    But think of the joy of the Skater! 
  Gr-r-r-r-!  Nose-nipped antiquity squirms in the street,
    When the North-Easter sounds its fierce slogan;
  But oh, the warm flush and the ecstasy fleet
    Of the fellow who rides a toboggan! 
  FISH SMART’s on the job in the ice-covered fens,
    And at Hampstead and Highgate they’re “sleighing.” 
  There is plenty of stuff for pictorial pens,
    And boyhood at snowballs is playing. 
  To sit by the fire and to grumble and croak
    At “young fools,” I presume is improper,
  Yet (chuckle!) the Skater sometimes has a “soak,”
    The Sleigher sometimes comes a cropper! [Left sniggering.

* * * * *

LOST IN THE MIST OF AGES.

(EXTRACTS FROM A CRITIQUE ON AN EXHIBITION TO SUCCEED THE GUELPHIAN, IN 19—.)

No. 76. Portrait of a Warrior.  This picture is described in the Catalogue as the Duke of WELLINGTON, who, it will be remembered, won, in the early part of the last century, the Battle of Waterloo, and invented a new kind of boots.  The face is adorned with long black whiskers and moustaches, and an eyeglass not unlike the traditional portrait of the great W.E.  GLADSTONE, Second Earl of BEACONSFIELD, as depicted by a now nearly forgotten artist, called DUNDREARY SOTHERN, or SOTHERN DUNDREARY.  The Duke (if, indeed, it be the Duke) is wearing the uniform of the 3rd Middlesex Artillery Volunteers, a corps that was raised some ten years after His Grace’s