* * * * *

BRIEF INTERVIEW.

“And,” asked our deferential Interviewer, “what did your Lordship reply to the deputation about Uganda?”

Lord ROSEBERY at once answered, “I said little, but I—­”

“Ment-more,” interrupted the Private Secretary, sticking a label on his Lordship’s travelling bag.

“Quite so,” said Lord ROSEBERY, and off he went.

* * * * *

BAD FOR WOULD-BE “ENGLISH WIVES”—­It is reported that “Yankee Girls and American Belles were the feature of the Miscellaneous Market.”  This should put our young men on their mettle—­tin, of course, for choice.  No reasonable offer refused.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “HOW IT’S DONE!”

(Hard on Sketchley, who was there at the time and in the thick of it, and has just had his Picture photographed.)

“OH!  MR. SKETCHLEY, HOW CLEVER OF YOU TO PAINT SUCH A LARGE PICTURE FROM SUCH A SMALL PHOTOGRAPH!”]

* * * * *

LAYS OF MODERN HOME.

NO.  V.—­MY BUTTONS!

[Illustration]

  It wasn’t that he blacked the plate
    And rouged the boots, and breathed, half-choking,
  Half-snorting, when he leaned to wait;
    Although these habits are provoking.

  It wasn’t that he sang his fill,
    Although his mouth with food was giving;
  This latter, as a feat of skill,
    Might have procured the lad a living.

  It wasn’t that he’d purchase hosts
    Of squibs and sweets to mess the pantry;
  That horrid boy, and broomstick-ghosts
    On timid JANE would oft, and ANN try.

  These petty peccadilloes might
    Have all improved with careful training.—­
  It was his shameless appetite
    That gave us cause for most complaining.

  He swilled and stuffed as never mere
    Adult voracity can own to;
  He was a “growing boy,” I fear;
    I wonder much what he has grown to!

  He wore away our forks and spoons
    With hard, incessant gormandizing;
  The Baker’s, and, for some blue moons,
    The Milkman’s bill were quite surprising.

[Illustration]

  He cost us more in Butcher’s meat
    And Grocer’s tea, and things from Cutlers,
  He cost, I solemnly repeat,
    Far more than two or three big Butlers.

  And thus his fat increased until’t
    Became a show that sight bewilders;
  We trembled for our mansion built,
    You see, by noted Jerry-builders.

  At length (you’ll scarce the fact believe)
    One evening, as we sat at dinner,
  And strove our senses to deceive
    By just imagining him thinner;

  We heard a crack, a burst, a groan,
    We felt a broadside round us battered,
  We saw his buttons fiercely blown
    About our heads, and piecemeal scattered!