Bright coloured as his orient car,
    Piled high with autumn splendours,
  The pageants of the sweetstuffs are
    At all the pastry-vendors;
      From earliest flush of dawn till eight
        The Maenad nymphs in masses,
      With lions’ help upbear the freight
      Of marzipan and chocolate
        And stickjaw and molasses.

  The poet from whose lips of flame
    Wine drew the songs, the full sighs,
  Performs the business just the same
    When masticating bull’s-eyes;
      The knight who bids a fond “Farewell,
        Love’s large, but honour’s larger!”
      Shares with the Lady Amabel
      One last delicious caramel
        And leaps upon his charger.

  The rake inured to card-room traps,
    Yet making fearful faces
  Because his foes, perfidious chaps,
    Have always all the aces—­
      “Ruined! the old place mortgaged! faugh!”
        (The guttering candles quiver)—­
      Instead of draining brandy raw
      Clenches a jujube in his jaw
        And strolls towards the river.

  O happier time that soothes the brain
    And rids us of our glum fits
  (Eliminating dry champagne)
    With candy and with comfits! 
      The oak reflects the firelight’s beam,
        In song the moments fly by,
      Till the old squire, his face agleam,
      Sucking the last assorted cream,
        Toddles away to bye-bye.

EVOE.

* * * * *

From a P.S.A. notice:—­

    “Subject:  ‘A RENEWED WORLD—­No Sorrow.  No Pain.  No Death.’  No
    Collection.”—­Local Paper.

The last item sounds almost too good to be true.

* * * * *

    “The proposed changes were discussed with the captain of the
    England side and one or two prominent crickets who had visited
    Australia.”—­Expensive Daily Paper.

Hitherto it had been supposed that these cheerful little creatures only sought the kind of “ashes” that you get on the domestic hearth.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “WE AIN’T A BIT AFRAID, ALFY ’IGGINS.  YER OWN FICE IS A LUMP UGLIER.”]

* * * * *

=A STRIKE IN FAIRYLAND.=

The fairies were holding a meeting.

“They grumble when we send the rain,” said a Rain-fairy, “and they grumble when we don’t.”

“And we get no thanks,” sighed a Flower-fairy.  “The time we spend getting the flowers ready and washing their faces and folding them up every night!”

“As for the stars,” said a Star-fairy, “we might just as well leave them unlit for all the gratitude we get, and it’s such a rush sometimes to get all over the sky in time.  They don’t even believe in us.  We wouldn’t mind anything if they believed in us.”