Where the graceful skunk opossum
    And the stylish leopard mink
  Scamper as you come across ’em,
    Climb upon the canon’s brink,
  Gambol with the pony musquash,
    Claimed not for a collar yet—­
  Far away from London’s bus-squash
  And advertisements of tusk-wash
    Are my yearning visions set.

  If such dreams and such romances,
    Editor and reader mine,
  Have not filled your heart with fancies—­
    Silence and the lonely pine,
  Distant snows that cool the fever
    Of a weary world-worn soul,
  There where life is no deceiver
  And the wallaby-dyed-beaver
    Makes a very natural mole—­

  If you have not heard the calling
    Of the lone, lone trail and far,
  Where the animals enthralling
    I have lately mentioned are,
  Nature splendid and full-blooded,
    Just a gun and pipe and dog
  (How those avalanches thudded!)—­
  No?  Why, then you can’t have studied
    Perkins’ Bargain Catalogue.

  EVOE.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  MANNERS AND MODES.

DYSPEPSIA DE LUXE.]

* * * * *

BILLIARDS.

HERBERT V. JAMES.

This match of a hundred up was played in the handsome saloon of the “Leadswingers’ Arms” yesterday afternoon before an unusually dense crowd, who both came in just too late to secure the table.  It is understood that the game was arranged as the result of a heated discussion during lunch the same day, in the course of which Herbert had the effrontery to tell me—­I mean, to tell James—­that what I—­that is, he—­knew about billiards wouldn’t cover the pyramid-spot.  James, who some hours later thought of a perfectly priceless repartee, which he has since forgotten, replied with dignity by challenging the other to an immediate game.  Herbert accepted and, hastily finishing their lunch, the two repaired to the nearest billiard-room.

“I’m not due back at the office for another twenty minutes, so we’ve tons of time,” observed Herbert airily as they entered.

James looked at him, but said nothing.  He had the better of the opening manoeuvres, however, for he secured the only cue that possessed a non-flexible tip; Herbert’s was at the best of the semi-rigid type, a fact which impelled him to declare that the place would soon resemble a popular tea-shop.  Not being pressed for an elucidation of this remark, he volunteered one.  “No tips,” he explained as he tenderly chalked his.

Herbert won the toss and elected to break with spot, which appeared to be a rounder ball than its fellow.  Taking a careful and protracted aim at the red, he only missed the object-ball by inches, his own travelling twice round the table before finally coming to rest in baulk.

“Now then, Inman,” he said, with a poor attempt at jauntiness, “score off that if you can.”