Various

“ The very man for the job. Buttonholing him with his hook, Cap'en Tommy opened his little plot. Temple aghast at first. Never known such a thing done, and the like. Tommy jawed away, twisting Temple round the tip of his hook like a marlingspike on a flying jibboom. Convinced him that public duty called for sacrifice of private prejudices. Having squared Temple, Tommy got men near him to walk out before House was counted, so as to reduce chances of quorum.
Bell rang; Members rushed in; Ministers huddled on Treasury Bench like flock of frightened sheep. ”

“ Wot a Summer we're 'aving this Season! All Nature seems trim and in tune;
Ripe strorberries picked out o' doors, though we've 'ardly yet dropped into June;
The parks jest like bloomin' peraries, the water supply going queer,
And a general 'urrying up for stror 'ats, lemon squoshes, and beer.
It seems only yesterday, Charlie, the standpipes wos up in our street,
And "Are you froze off?" wos the question of every poor pal you might meet. ”

“ Grace is now getting on for fifty. In another four years he will complete his half century. Therefore he is no chicken. Ergo, he may one day have a duck's egg. I withhold my subscription, to accumulate with interest, till that occurs.
A Wicket Girl.
An Ardent Admirer.
Sir,—Ah me! and well-a-day! it is the grand sorrow of my life! I cannot subscribe to this fund for Dr. Grace. I dare not, except you allow me to send it confidentially through you, Sir, ever the Ladies' friend. Ah Sir! long ago my heart "went out"—to whom? no matter. It was a cricketer. I never told my love! ”

“ And I pay one sov. to stand with those men there! It is too strong! I go more far, I pass the barrier, I am alone on the grass. I go to left. I see some men, in a cage of iron, who cry also. It is—how say you?—"Tatersal." Then, ah heaven, I arrive at the true Pesage! Not of burgesses, not of villain beasts of bookmakers, not even of "Tatersals." But partout the ladies the most beautiful, the most charming, the most adorable! It is there I go! Even if I pay one sov., two sovs., three sovs., I go!
I essay to enter. The policeman stops me. I say, "One pound?" and I offer to him one sov. ”

“ No amplitude of rolling, though non-synchronous the wave.
Naval Architects, then, hasten to diminish woes which chasten
The happiness of hundreds, be they timorous or brave;
Make a ship, like dry land seeming, where we should not think of dreaming
Of amplitude of rolling, though non-synchronous the wave.
WHITEWASHING THE STATUE OF CROMWELL. "Cromwell," wrote the Daily News on Arthur Balfour's speech, "was the only man of his time who understood the principles of religious freedom." Ahem! ”

“ Sheep whose turn is still to come are penned up at the back, and look on, scandalised, but with an air which seems to express that their own superior respectability is a sufficient protection against similar outrage. ”

“ Eh well, I desire to see one time your Gold Cup, and I go of good hour by railway. Arrived there I pay one pound, that what you call one sov., and I enter. I suppose I can go by all—partout, how say you? Ah, but no! I see by all some affiches "One Pound."
I can to write your language enough well, but I speak with much of difficulty. Therefore I read the affixes without nothing to ask. Thus when I read "One Pound" I go no more far. I walk myself in the charming garden and I see the beautiful misses. Ah how they are adorable! Daudet has wrong, Daudet is imbecile, they are adorable. ”

“ Cocked-hats of a feather flock together.
You cannot make pleasure out of the address of a corporation.
All roads lead to turtle soup.
It is an ill wind that causes a swell on the Ship Canal.
People who live in mosques ought not to throw sticks at the Derby.
A programme kept to time is not worth nine.
The early mayor has to wait longest.
Give a Highness a wrong title and report him.
Enough at a factory is better than a feast in a Town Hall.
It is a long explanation that has no turning.
A jerk is as good as a nod to a bowing multitude. ”

“ But without doubt one is obliged to pay one pound before to enter the bar. My word, I will not! I shall not pay one sov., and more, for a squashed lemon and a bun of Bath. I go to smoke at place of that, and I walk myself at the shade all near of an arch.
All of a blow all the world lifts himself and comes very quick towards me. I cannot escape, I am carried away by the crowd, I arrive to the arch. I think "Du courage, Auguste mon cher! Sois calme! S'il y a encore une livre à payer——" But there is no sov., and I pass. ”

“ Ah, my friend, it on'y shows 'ow true it is that 'eving tempers the shears for the shorn lambs!
A Governess (instinctively, to her charge) . Don't you think you ought to be very grateful to that poor sheep, Ethel, for giving up her nice warm fleece on purpose to make a frock for you?
Ethel (doubtfully) . Y—yes, Miss Mavor. But (with a fear that some reciprocity may be expected of her) she's too big for any of my best frocks, isn't she? ”

“ At Tetbury there is a lodge of the recently-established Conservative Working Men's Benefit Society. It is called—absit omen—the Trouble House Lodge, and quite recently it held a fête and dinner. 'Tis always fête-day somewhere in the world. Indeed, the amount of fêtes that take place on any given day in provincial England is astounding. Without frequent fêtes no district can be considered respectable.
In the world that we live in our troubles are great;
To add to their number is scarcely the game. ”

“ Cap'en just rising with intent to observe that there are not forty Members present, when happier thought struck him. Why not get some landsman to do the trick? The more venerable and venerated the agent the better. Tommy knows himself to be a wicked old salt. ”

“ The shearers appear to take a humorous view of their task, and are watched by a crowd which has collected round the railings, with an agreeable assurance that they are not expected to contribute towards the entertainment. ”

“ Blackwood, who opened to General Hamley the avenue to literary fame.
One of my Baronites of Irish extraction writes thusly:—"A Tale of the Thames is the title of the Summer Number of The Graphic. It is written by J. Ashby-Sterry, and illustrated by William Hatherell. The course of the story—or, rather, the watercourse of the story—covers a good deal of ground, embracing as it does, on both sides, most places of interest between the Source in Trewsbury Mead, Gloucestershire, and Hampton Court." Quoth the Baron, "I am all anxiety to see this tale of the Thames uncoil itself." ”

“ Wish you luck, and a good game!"
"Three Which's?"—Will Sara B., Eleanora Duse, and Miss Ada Rehan be playing individually and separately at different theatres all at the same time? Were this concatenation to occur, the playgoer, at the height of the season, would be as puzzled as was the "anxious cit," who "each invitation views, And ponders which to take and which refuse." The "stayer" will win. ”

“ P.S.—Je fais le cricquet, autrement je m'enGRAISSE. (See?)
Sir,—I miss one important name from the Telegraph list of subscriptions to Grace Testimonial. What is Grace the Batsman without T. G. Bowles? ”

“ Wot can be 'is little gyme, Charlie, to foller old W. G.?
(I don't mean the cricketer this time.) That Liberal lot ain't no clarss,
With a lot o' tag-rag they carn't hold, and a lot o' bad Bills they carn't parss.
The blot on this Season is Parlyment. ”

“ Tom (to 'Arry) . How do you know?
'Arry (giving Hal as his authority) . 'Cos it's' Al-sez-'tis.
The New Women. Intelligence from (and at) Hamburg.—"Mr. G." was unable to go to the Zoo at feeding-time. He was conspicuous by his absence, as all the other lions were there.
New and Appropriate Name for the After-dinner Crumb-and-fragment Basket.—"The Morsel-eum."
'ARRY ON THE SEASON.
Dear Charlie,—The pypers all tell us the Season is now at its 'ight ”