Just one day without your wine, Sir!  Madam, just one ribbon less,
  And one wearied child in London from afar your name will bless. 
  Think, ere now you seek your boredom in fresh pleasure-draughts to
          drown,
  Three or four benighted Millions still are left behind in Town!

* * * * *

GENERAL OPINION ON APPOINTMENT OF NEW CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF INLAND REVENUE.—­“MILNER’s Safe.”

* * * * *

CANVASSERS AND CANVASSED.

(AN ELECTIONEERING REMINISCENCE.)

SCENE—­A narrow South London Street of two-storeyed houses, with a Rag-and-Bone Shop at one end and a Public House at the other.  Time, about four o’clock on a warm Saturday afternoon.  Enter Mr. CARLTON-JERMYN, a middle-aged gentleman, in faultless get-up, who, in a moment of weakness, has undertaken to canvass the district for his friend, the Conservative Candidate.

Mr. C.-J. (to himself, as he regards his surroundings with dismay, and tries to arrange his canvassing-cards).  I suppose this is Little Anna Maria Street?  I didn’t understand at the Committee Rooms that it was quite such a—­however, I must do my best for dear old TILNEY.  Who’s the first man I must see and “use my best endeavours to persuade him into promising his vote?” Ah, Mr. J. SPLURGE, No. 1. (He picks his way delicately along, attempting to make out the numbers on the doors, which are all thrown back; female residents watch him from doorsteps and windows with amused interest.) No. 5; No. 3; the next is No. 1. (It is; but the entrance is blocked by a small infant with a very dirty face, who is slung in a baby-chair between the door-posts.) Very embarrassing, really!  Can’t ask such a child as this if Mr. SPLURGE is at home!  I’ll knock. (Stretches for the knocker across the child, who, misinterpreting his intentions, sets up a howl.) My good child, I assure you ... for Heaven’s sake, don’t!...  I—­I wonder whether I ought to kiss it—­some fellows would!

[Illustration:  “I wonder whether I ought to kiss it—­some fellows would!”]

Female Voice (from side-window).  You leave that pore child alone, will yer—­or I’ll come out and tork to you, d’y’ear?

Mr. C.-J. (to himself).  That’s Mrs. SPLURGE!  I think, perhaps, I’d better not wait. (With an inspiration.) I’ll leave a card. (Drops one of his visiting-cards in the child’s lap—­to its exceeding terror—­and retreats.) I’m afraid I haven’t produced a very favourable impression, so far, I’ll try No. 2, across the street. (He approaches a doorstep upon which two stout and dishevelled Women are seated.) Er—­I beg your pardon, but could you kindly inform me if Mr.—­er—­(consulting card)—­GUFFIN is at home?

First Woman (with sarcasm).  Now do yer think he’s nothink else to do but set indoors in a arm-cheer all day?