No. 18. “Paderewski.” Surely it ought to be PATTY REWSKY, with “Miss” before the name. Moral, “Get your hair cut!”

No. 284. “Nightfall in the Dauphinee.” “Might fall,” it ought to be, and no wonder if she walked about on so dark a night with such a load in her arms!

No. 165. “Che sara sara.” A pedestrian match in the Metropolis.  In fact, Walker, London.  A portrait of Sarah, after she has been let down into the punt, the shock having dislocated her shoulder.  She might have kept Col.  Neal’s clothes round her neck to hide her back.

No. 77.  This is the gem of the collection.  It is by FRNND KHNPFF.  Our Head Critic was so overcome by this great work that he went out to get assistance, but unfortunately, in trying to pronounce the painter’s name, he dislocated his jaw, and is now in a precarious state.  Our Assistant Critic, Deputy Assistant Critic, Deputy Assistant Sub-Critic, and a few extra Supernumerary Critics, then went in a body and looked at this young woman’s head, apparently taken after an interview with Madame Guillotine.  They looked at the head from all sides, and finally stood on their own, but they could not make head or tail of it.  Any person giving information as to the meaning, and paying threepence, will receive a presentation copy of this journal.

There are other portraits of the latest fashion in young Ladies, but those mentioned above are the most remarkable in the New Girlery.

* * * * *

ANY MAN TO ANY WOMAN.

O woman, in our hours of ease, We smile, and say, “Go as you please!” But when there’s prospect of a row, You’re best out of it anyhow.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “OH, THAT TUNE!”

A Sketch of an Unintentional and Unwilling Imitator of Miss Lottie
Collins.]

* * * * *

THE TWO ARCHERS.—­In the P.M.G. of Saturday last, WILLIAM ARCHER, in a signed article, criticises a book on “How to Write a Good Play, by FRANK ARCHER.”  In expressing his opinion of the book, WILLIAM becomes Frank—­unpleasantly Frank.

* * * * *

A RIDDLE.

  While Publishers their fortunes make
    And wax exceeding fat,
  The Author still is like a rake. 
    Now, pray account for that.

* * * * *

THE WATER-COLOUR ROOM AT THE ACADEMY.

[Illustration]

  Oh, what a smell from the kitchen to spur comers
    Out of this room, where we think more of ham
  Than HORSLEYS, of soup than STONES, hashes than HERKOMERS,
    Mix MILLAIS with mutton, and LEIGHTON with lamb,

  Think of salmon and cucumber, stilton and celery,
    And not of the drawings at which we should look;
  Reminded, when making a tour round this gallery,
    But little of “Gaze,” and a great deal of “Cook.”