Reggie.  “Y-YES—­BUT—­ER—­YOU KNOW, THE CONFOUNDED WIRES ARE ALWAYS GETTING OUT OF ORDER!”]

* * * * *

PARLIAMENT A LA MODE DE PARIS.

    SCENE—­The Chamber during a Debate of an exciting character. 
    Member with a newspaper occupying the Tribune.

Member.  I ask if the report in this paper is true?  It calls the Minister a scoundrel! [Frantic applause.

President.  I must interpose.  It is not right that such a document should be read.

Member.  But it is true.  I hold in my hand this truth-telling sheet. (Shouts of “Well done!”) This admirable journal describes the Minister as a trickster, a man without a heart! [Yells of approbation.

President.  I warn the Member that he is going too far.  He is outraging the public conscience. ["Hear! hear!”

Member.  It is you that outrage the public conscience. [Sensation.

President.  This is too much!  If I hear another word of insult, I will assume my hat.

    [Profound and long-continued agitation.

Member.  A hat is better than a turned coat! (Thunders of applause.) I say that this paper is full of wholesome things, and that when it denounces the Minister as a good-for-nothing, as a slanderer, as a thief—­it does but its duty.

    [Descends from the Tribune amidst tumultuous applause, and is
    met by the Minister.  Grand altercation, with results.

Minister’s Friends.  What have you done to him?

Minister (with dignity).  I have avenged my honour—­I have hit him in the eye!

    [Scene closes in upon the Minister receiving hearty
    congratulations from all sides of the Chamber.

* * * * *

PRESERVED VENICE.

(SPECIALLY IMPORTED FOR THE LONDON MARKET.)

A SATURDAY NIGHT SCENE AT OLYMPIA.

IN THE PROMENADE.

A Pessimistic Matron (the usual beady and bugle-y female, who takes all her pleasure as a penance).  Well, they may call it “Venice,” but I don’t see no difference from what it was when the Barnum Show was ’ere—­except—­(regretfully)—­that then they ‘ad the Freaks o’ Nature, and Jumbo’s skelinton!

[Illustration:  “I’m sure I’m ’ighly flattered, Mum, but I’m already suited.”]

Her Husband (an Optimist—­less from conviction than contradiction).  There you go, MARIA, finding fault the minute you’ve put your nose inside!  We ain’t in Venice yet.  It’s up at the top o’ them steps.

The P.M. Up all them stairs?  Well, I ’ope it’ll be worth seeing when we do get there, that’s all!

An Attendant (as she arrives at the top).  Not this door, Ma’am—­next entrance for Modern Venice.