I mayn’t be strong, inspired, complete,
    But on the Liberal goose I’m sound. 
  And I can count my (rhythmic) feet
    With any Pegasus around. 
  I witch all women, and some men,
  GLADSTONE I’ve drawn, and written “Gwen.”

  If these be not sufficient claims,
    The worth of Verse is vastly small. 
  I’ve called him various pretty names,
    The honoured Master of us all;
  “His place is with the Immortals.”  Yes! 
  But I could fill it here, I guess!

  His “chaste white Muse” could not object,
    For mine is white, and awfully chaste. 
  Now ALGERNON has no respect
    For purity and public taste. 
  EDWIN is given to allegory. 
  Whilst ALFRED is a wicked Tory!!!

  He ceased.  Great PUNCHIUS rubbed his eagle beak. 
  And said, “I think we’ll take the rest next week!”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Experienced Sportsman (on Pony).  “WELL—­HAD GOOD SPORT, FRED, OLD BOY?”

Inexperienced Fred.  “NOT EXACTLY ’GOOD,’—­BUT I THINK I’VE LET OFF ABOUT A HUNDRED CARTRIDGES.”

Experienced Sportsman.  “NOT SO BAD.  S’POSE YOU MUST HAVE ‘LET OFF’ AN EQUAL NUMBER OF PARTRIDGES!”]

* * * * *

IN A GHOST-SHOW.

Warlock’s “Celebrated Ghost-Exhibition and Deceptio Visus” has pitched its tent for the night on a Village Green, and the thrilling Drama of “Maria Martin, or, The Murder in the Red Barn, in three long Acts, with unrivalled Spectral Effects and Illusions,” is about to begin.  The Dramatis Personae are on the platform outside; the venerable Mr. MARTIN is exhorting the crowd to step up and witness his domestic tragedy, while the injured MARIA, is taking the twopences at the door; WILLIAM CORDER is finishing a pipe, and two of the Angelic Visions are dancing, in blue velveteen and silver braid, to the appropriate air of “The Bogie Man."

INSIDE.

    The front benches are occupied by Rustic Youths, who beguile
    the tedium of waiting by smoking short clays, and trying to
    pull off one another’s caps.

First Youth (examining the decorative Shakspearian panels on the proscenium.) They three old wimmin be a-pokin’ o’ that old nipper, ’ooever he be.

    [The “old nipper” in question is, of course, MACBETH.

Second Youth. Luk up at that ’un tother side—­it’s a Gineral’s gho-ast a-frightenin’ th’ undertaker (A subject from “Hamlet") They’ve gi’en over dancin’ outside—­they’ll be beginning soon. (The company descend the steps, and pass behind the scenes.) We shall see proper ’ere, we shall.

    [The Curtain draws up, and reveals a small stage, with an
    inclined sheet of glass in a heavy frame in front; behind this
    glass is the Cottage Home of MARIA MARTIN.