Yesh, HARRY LAWSHUN mosh entirely righ’! 
  WILFRIDSH mush blesh his nameshake!  Had a frigh’
  Only lash Shundaysh.  Fanshied I saw snakesh. 
  Frigh’ful to watch ’em wrigglung, when one wakesh
  Over the quilterpane—­I mean counterquilt. 
  Liqnorsh are lovely, when you’re that waysh built;
  But snakesh ish pizen!  So ish liquorsh, too—­
  Leastwaysh, so WILFRIDSH LAWSHON and hish crew
  Alwaysh declaresh!  No matter!  Nash’ral Museum,
  Mush better than the Jim-Jamsh!  Eugh!  I shee ’em! 
  All eyesh and limbsh, all twists, and twirls, and twiddles;
  Tails like long corkscrewsh, gogglesh in their middles;
  Big headsh, and bony bodysh—­frigh’fully frisky! 
  Fancy sush things living in Irish Whishky,
  Like animalcu—­what’s it? in—­hic—­water! 
  No matter!  I’ve sworn offsh!  POLLY, my daughter,
  Made me Good Templarsh!  No more horrorsh now! 
  To Heaven’s broad blue vault I lift my brow,
  A shober Br—­Bri’sh Workman!  So old DUMPER,
  The lecturer, putsh it.  He’sh a rare tub-thumper! 
  Itsh Easter Shunday, and I am not tigh’! 
  Bri’sh Workman—­Nash’ral Museum!  Thatsh or’righ’. 
  Feelsh bit unsteady!  That dashed ginger-beer
  Gassysh—­go i’ my head an’ makesh me queer! 
  One nipsh!—­no, no! won’t do!  Wherream I?  Lor! 
  Strai’ on, the plishman says, through tha’ there door. 
  Doorsh blesshed wide, and these ’ere big shop-cases
  With bitsh o’ stone and beedlesh!—­Yah!  Thosh faces! 
  Thosh eyesh, thosh limbsh, thosh bodysh, big and bony! 
  Thosh wrigglewigglements!  I’ll bet a pony
  Thish ish no Nash’ral Museum—­Nash—­hic—­ral Hishtory! 
  Look at ’em! Look at ’em!!  Oh, hersh a mystery! 
  POLLYSH,—­where are yer?  Where’sh that blesshed bottle? 
  I’vesh got a peck o’ March dust down my throttle. 
  Give ush that gin—­ger beersh, o’ course, I mean. 
  Look, POLLY!—­shee that creature long and lean,
  Crawling towardsh us!  Jim-Jamsh are not in it
  With thish ‘ere Bri’s’h Museum!  Wai’ a minute! 
  Where am I?  Whersh tha’ girl?  Can’t read this lingo! 
  “Mega—­” It moves! Got ’em again, by Jingo!!!

* * * * *

[Illustration:  AN EASTER OBJECT LESSON.

(At the Natural History Museum.)

Visitor.  “HULLO!  I SAY, I’VE GOT ’EM AGIN!  GI’ ME THE BLUE RIBBON!”]

* * * * *

LEAVES FROM A CANDIDATE’S DIARY.

March 10.—­It has come at last, and I’m free to confess I don’t care for it half as much as I thought I should.  I got the letter five days ago.  Here it is:—­

    45, Main Street, Billsbury, March 4, 18—.

Sir,—­I have been in communication with headquarters, and I am informed that you are looking out for a Constituency at the next General Election.  We have been for some time past endeavouring to find a Candidate for this Borough, and should be glad to hear if we may submit your name to the consideration of our local Council.  The political history of Billsbury must be known to you.  Up to the date of the last election we have always been represented by a Conservative.  In fact, Billsbury was always looked upon as an impregnable fortress of sound Constitutional opinion.