It is to be hoped that the advertiser will not get an animal that (to quote from Hamlet) “may smile and smile and be a villain!”

* * * * *

IGNOTUS.

  Prate not about Fame!  I’ve addressed half the world,
    In Court and in cottage, in Castle and slum! 
  I’ve been warbled, and chorussed, and tootled, and skirled,
    Yet, for kudos, I might just as well have been dumb. 
  Though familiar to all men, I’m wholly unknown;
    You’re inclined to pooh-pooh, and to say I am wrong? 
  Nay, listen, and you my correctness will own: 
    ’Tis I wrote the words of a Popular Song!

* * * * *

NEW AND INTERESTING WORK.—­As a companion to Dr. WRIGHT’s The Ice Ages in North America and its bearing upon the Antiquity of Man, will shortly appear The Penny-Ice Age in London and its bearing on the Youth of the Metropolis.

* * * * *

A BRUMMAGEM BOLUS.

(BY AN ELATE LIBERAL-UNIONIST.)

  An “ill-starred abortion” WEG christened our party;
    At present, as JOE hints, that sounds quite ironic. 
  True, lately our health did appear far from hearty,
    But Aston has acted As-tonic!

* * * * *

NOTE FOR CRITICS.—­How can any of us expect the truth from a historian who himself tells us that he merely “transcribes from MSS. lying before him!”

* * * * *

WHAT THE ITALIANS SEEM TO WANT IN LOUISIANA.—­An unfair field, or no FAVA!

* * * * *

[Illustration:  PICTURE SUNDAY.

(What Our Artist has to put up with.)

Fair Damsel (to Our Artist, who is explaining the beauties of his Picture).  “CHARMING!  CHARMING!  BUT, OH, MR. FITZMADDER, WHAT A DELIGHTFUL ROOM THIS WOULD BE FOR A DANCE,—­WITH THE MUSICIANS IN THE GALLERY, AND ALL THE EASELS AND PICTURES AND THINGS CLEARED AWAY!”]

* * * * *

A FAIR EXCHANGE.

    HOSEA BIGLOW speaks up on the situation:—­

  Here we stan’ on the Constitution, by thunder! 
    State rights won’t be hurried by any one’s hoofs;
  UMBERTO, old hoss, would you like, I wonder,
    To ’pologise first, and then bring up yer proofs? 
  Uncle SAM is free, and he sez, sez he:—­
      “The Mafia’s no more
      Right to come to this shore,
  No more’n the Molly Maguires,” sez he.

  Uncle SAM ain’t no kind o’ bisness with nothin’
    Like stabs in the back,—­that may do for slaves. 
  We ain’t none riled by their frettin’ an’ frothin’
    Who shriek, in Hitalian, across the waves. 
  Uncle SAM is free, but he sez, sez he:—­
      “He will put down his foot
      On the right to shoot
  As claimed by the Mafia gang!” sez he.