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OMINOUS.—­Unfortunate name for a piece is Cigarette.  So suggestive of “paper,” and of “ending in smoke.” Absit omen!

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[Illustration:  STUDIES IN IDIOCY.

She. “MRS. MOFFAT’S THE ODDEST WOMAN!  SHE’S FOND OF MEETING CLEVER PEOPLE, YOU KNOW, AND SHE NEVER OPENS HER LIPS, BUT LISTENS TO EVERY WORD THEY SAY, AND PUTS IT ALL DOWN IN A DIARY AFTER!”

He. “HAW—­BY JOVE!  SHALL TAKE PRECIOUS GOOD CARE WHAT I SAY BEFORE HER!”]

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AIDS TO LARCENY.—­(By an “Outside Croaker.")—­I find that since I started off shopping this morning, I have lost my purse, my handkerchief, the keys of all my boxes and drawers, a silver-mounted scent-bottle, my season-ticket, and a pocket-book containing priceless materials for the plot of a three-volumed novel.  This comes of riding on the outside of an omnibus with garden-seats.—­Conductor, the gentlemanly person who sat just behind me, and who is now proceeding rather quickly up Chancery Lane, seems to have been unable to resist the temptation afforded by my hanging coat-tails, and has walked off with a few unpaid bills which were in the pockets, under a mistaken impression that they were bank-notes.  Would you mind explaining to him his mistake?—­Would it be possible for the excellent Directors of the London General Omnibus Company and the London Road Car Company, so to board up the open backs of their otherwise delightful garden-seats as to prevent a ride on the top of an omnibus from being a constant series of (generally unwarranted) suspicions of the people seated in one’s rear?

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AN AFTERNOON SAIL.

SCENE—­A Landing Stage under Margate Pier.  Excursionists discovered embarking in two rival sailing-boats, the “Daisy” and the “Buttercup,” whose respective Mates are exchanging repartees.

[Illustration:  “Pirate,—­that’s what I was, Sir!”]

Mate of the “Daisy". This gangway, Marm—­(to a Stout Lady)—­not that one, if you want to enjoy yourself.  That one’ll take you aboard the “Buttercup,” Marm!

    [The Stout Lady patronises the “Daisy."

Mate of the “Buttercup." You may ’ave that little lot!  Don’t you go overloadin’ that ‘ere old tub o’ yourn, that’s all!

M. of the D. No fear o’ you bein’ crowded, anyhow.  Folks ha’ got more sense!

M. of the B. Why, we can outsail you any day.  Spoke you off the Tongue light, we did, close in to ye, we were—­and back ten minutes afore ye—­come!  The “Buttercup"’ll answer any way we put her—­a’most speak to us, she will!

M. of the D. Ah, it’s lucky for you she can’t quite speak—­you’d ’ear some plain langwidge if she did!