St. Paul’s Cathedral formerly stood.  It was found, however, that the Council had suddenly adjourned, and that all the officials had fled.  The workmen accordingly entered, and, having voted Mr. SCALDS to the chair, unanimously resolved that all the Tramways should be removed and the Parks replanted and returfed.  It was decided that nothing could be done to replace the Cathedral or the Abbey, but it was resolved that the following inscription should be placed on the ruins at Westminster:—­“To the lasting disgrace of the English Nation, this Building, together with the other beautiful and interesting parts of London, was ruined, for the sake of some impossible and imbecile schemes, by an assemblage of the most Despicable Dolts that ever lived.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “WHEN PAIN AND ANGUISH WRING THE BROW.”

The Minister. “WELL, JANET, HOW DID YOU LIKE YOUR NEW DOCTOR, DR. ELIZABETH SQUILLS?”

Janet. “WEEL, SIR, ONLY PRETTY WELL.  YE SEE, SIR, DR. ELIZABETH ISN’T SO LEDDYLIKE AS SOME OF OUR AIN MEN DOCTORS!”]

* * * * *

MIXED.—­Under the heading “A Tragic Affair,” it was recently stated in a paragraph, how “a Lady had been shot by a discharged Servant.”  It would have been better if the Servant, on being discharged, had gone off and injured nobody.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  IN DIFFICULTIES.

Effie (who can’t make her sum come right).  “OH, I DO WISH I WAS A RABBIT SO!”

Maud. “WHAT FOR, DARLING?”

Effie. “PAPA SAYS THEY MULTIPLY SO QUICKLY!”]

* * * * *

THE OTHER “WESTMINSTER STABLE.”

Noble Owner (watching the Favourite out for exercise). 
  Ah! don’t look so bad, ARTHUR, after his spin! 
  They are asking all round if he’ll run, if he’ll win. 
  They would like much to know, I’ve no manner of doubt. 
  Why, there isn’t a Bookie, a Tipster, or Tout,
  Not to mention an Owner, or Trainer, or Vet,
  But desires the straight tip—­which I wish they may get! 
  If they knew he’d been “nobbled,” they’d greatly rejoice;
  Then they’d back other cracks—­Dissolution for choice—­
  With a confident mind.  “Nobbled!” Ah! were they able
  To get at his groom, or sneak into his stable,
  How gladly some of them would give him a dose! 
  That’s right, ARTHUR; watch him, my lad, and—­keep close!

Trainer. Ay, ay, Sir!  They will not get much out of me, Sir! 
  A still tongue to Tipsters and Touts is a teaser. 
  They’re awfully curious about t’other horse;
  Dissolution, you know.  Try to pump me.

Noble Owner. Of course! 
  Very natural, you know, I should be, in their case. 
  If they knew that this nag couldn’t win the big race,
  Or was not meant to run, then their course would be clear.