SCULPTURE.—­The descriptions in the Guide are too painful.  We prefer not, to give any names, but here are specimens:—­“Mr. So-and-so, to be executed in bronze”; “The late Thingummy—­bust!” These will suffice.  Then we have No. 1997. “All Three going to Bath” by GEORGE FRAMPTON; and last, but not by any means least, a very good likeness of our old friend J.C.  HORSLEY, R.A., and while we think of it, we’ll treat him as a cabman and “take his number,” which it’s 1941, done by JOHN ADAMS-ACTON, and so, with this piece of sculpture, we conclude our pick of the Pictures with this display of fireworks; that is, with one good bust up!  Plaudite et valete!

* * * * *

ARS LONGA.

  Talking “ART” is so “smart” in the first week of May,
  That is “ART,” which you start with a thundering A.
  Simple “art” must depart; that’s an obsolete way. 
  Some think “art” would impart all the work of to-day.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES.

“THAT’S THE NEW DOCTOR—­AND THOSE ARE HIS CHILDREN!”

“HOW UGLY HIS CHILDREN ARE!”

“WELL, NATURALLY!  OF COURSE DOCTORS HAVE GOT TO KEEP THE UGLY ONES THEMSELVES, YOU KNOW!”]

* * * * *

RECKONING WITHOUT THEIR HOST.

Mr. P.C.  BULL, loquitur:—­

  Humph!  There you go, suspicious lurkers,
    From lands less free!  I grudge you room
  Among my hosts of honest workers. 
    Had I the settling of your doom,
  Your shrift were short, and brief your stay. 
  As ’tis, I’ll watch you on your way.

  A Land of Liberty!  Precisely. 
    And curs of that advantage take. 
  But, if you want my tip concisely,—­
    We hate the wolf and loathe the snake: 
  And as you seem a blend of both,
  To crush you I’d be little loth.

  Freedom we love, and, to secure it,
    Take rough and smooth with constant mind. 
  Espionage?  We ill endure it,
    But Liberty need not be blind. 
  Sorrow’s asylum is our isle;
  But we’d not harbour ruffians vile.

  To flout that isle foes are not chary,
    When of its shelter not in need;
  But, when in search of sanctuary,
    They fly thereto with wondrous speed. 
  Asylum?  Ay!  But learn—­in time—­
  ’Tis no Alsatia for foul crime.

  Foes dub me sinister, satanic,
    A friend of Nihilists and knaves;
  Because I will not let mere panic
    Rob me of sympathy with slaves,
  And hatred of oppressors.  Fudge! 
  Their railings will not make me budge.

  I’ve taken up my stand for freedom,
    I’ll jackal to no autocrat;
  But rogues with hands as red as Edom,
    Nihilist snake, Anarchist rat,
  I’d crush, and crime’s curst league determine. 
  I have no sympathy with vermin.