The Three Men took the suggestion literally.  A wild scene ensued.  Shouting wildly, “We’ll spoil your beauty for you!” one tore the flower out of DORIAN’s coat, another threw the red copper bowl of rose-water at his head, a third, with the uncommonly vulgar exclamation, “Art be blowed! we’ll show you some science!” struck the unfortunate man a violent blow on the nose with his clenched fist.

How the scene might have ended but for the sudden intervention of Mulvaney and his companions, I cannot say.  In the strangest dialect, and with the most uncouth oaths, they literally “went for” the Three Boating Men.  The aquatic champions were completely demolished by the Soldiers Three.

In the words of the butler, “Their shirt-fronts were crumpled ’orrid.”  The three youths, in a pitiable state, left the house with the Princess, and went off all together in a droschki, the driver of which wore a badge on which was inscribed, “Josef HATTONSKI.  By Order of the Czar.”  Dorian had already escaped, bearing on his handsome countenance the impress of fists and the stains of flattened mince-pies.

For my own part ...  I don’t know how I managed to get away.  I suppose I must have been rendered insensible by a candlestick which was thrown at me.  At all events, I found myself on the floor, having tumbled out of bed ...  But how I had ever got to bed I do not remember.  It may be I shall never discover the truth of it all.  Stay!—­had I been hypnotised?  If so, when, where, and by whom?

* * * * *

An anti-Hiss-trionic bird.

A “Par” in the Daily News last Thursday told how the Antipodaeans had presented Miss Nellie Farren with “a Laughing Jackass.”  What a time he’ll have of it!  Always in fits, and perhaps the merry bird will at last “die o’ laughin’”!  For it is a biped and not a quadruped; not that as a biped “the Laughing Jackass” is by any means a lusus naturae.  This bird, not probably unfamiliar with the “’Oof Bird” of sporting circles, is, it is said, “a foe to snakes.”  Excellent omen this for Miss Farren.  Laughter everywhere, and no hissing permitted.  If hissing heard anywhere, up starts the Laughing Jackass and down he comes on the snake, and there’s an end of the hissing.  Theatrical Managers would do well to cultivate the Laughing Jackasses, and keep a supply always on the premises.

* * * * *

’Arry on Arrius.

WITH SOME CONSIDERATION CONCERNING COMPULSORY CLASSICS.

[Illustration]

  Dear Charlie,—­O, ain’t I a daisy?  Excuse your old pal busting forth;
  But my name’s going hup like a rocket; it’s spreading east, west, south,
      and north. 
  Like that darned hinfluenza, but more so; and now, s’elp me scissors, I
      find
  I was famous afore I was born!  Sounds a licker, but ’anged if I
      mind.[1]