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But ane who blaws op strife like

this,
Wisdom deems not a wise man.

Fal de ral, &c.
Scot business may be out o' tune,

True harmony may fail in't,
But deil a cockney tinkler loon

We need to rant and rail in't.
Our fathers on occasion fought,

And so can we, if needed;
But windy words with frenzy fraught
Sound Soots

should pass unheeded.

Fal de ral, &c.
Let toilers not, like snarling tykes,

In wrangling be divided,
Till foreign Trade, which marks our

Strikes,
Steps in, and we're derided.
Be Scotland still to Sootland true,

Amang oursels united;
'Tis not by firebrands, John, like you
Oar wrangs shall best be righted.

Fal de ral, &o.
The knave who'd crush the toilers

doun,
And him, his true-born brither,
Who'd set the mob aboon the Crown,

Should be kicked out together.
Go, JOHN! Learn temperance, banish

spleen!
Scots cherish throne and steeple,
But while we sing “God save the

Queen,"
We won't forget the People.

Fal de ral, &c.

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A LENGTHY Novel.- A Thousand
Lines of Her Oron, in 3000 vols., by Salman
the Authoress of A Line of Her
Own, in 3 vols. N.B.—What a long

THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID. line this must be to occupy three vols.! A work of and for a life-Small Stranger (to Master of the house). “OW MY | THE GENTLEMAN AS OPENS THE DOOR WILL GIVE time.

IT YER, IF YER RING THAT BELLI”.

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OPERATIC GOSSIP.

A REMINISCENCE OF C. K. DURING the preparation of Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN's new Opera,

The excellent article in the Times on the 6th inst. upon CHARLES Ivanhoe, a grave objeotion to the subjeot occurred to him, which KEENE was worthy of its subject. The writer in the P. M. G. of a was, that one of the chief personages in the dramatis persone must day earlier performed bis self-imposed task with a judicious and loving be Gilbert”- 3.c., Sir Brian de Buis-Guilbert. True, that Sir Brian hand, and, as far as I can judge, his account of our lamented colleague is the villain of the piece, but this, to Sir ARTHUR'8 generous dispo- seems to be correct. As to our CARLO's Mastership in his Blacksition, only made matters worse. It was evident that be couldn't and-White Art, there can be but one opinion among Artists. Those change the character's name to Sir Brian de Bois-Sullivan, and who possess the whole of the Once a Week series will there find Mr. D'OILEY CABTE refused to allow his name to appear in the bill admirable specimens of CHABLES KEENE in a more serious vein. His except as Lessee. “I can't put him in simply as Sir Brian," said most striking effects were made as if by sudden inspiration. I the puzzled Composer," unless I make him an Irishman, and I remember a story which exactly illustrates my meaning. An artistic don't think my librettist will consent to take this liberty with friend was in KEENE's studio, while CARLO was at work, pipe in Scott's novel." " But the name in the Opera isn't pronounced the mouth, of course. I can't understand,” said his friend, how same as W. 8. G.'s," objected D'OYLEY. It will be outside the you produce that effect of distance in so small a picture." “OOpera by ninety out of a hundred," answered Sir ARTHUR. um-easy enough,” replied KEENF.

he did

Look here,'-andcontinued D'OYLEY, persistently, "it isn't spelt the same." No,"

» it. But when and how he gave the touch which made the effect, his replied Sir ARTHUR,, " that's the worst of it; there's a" and friend, following bis work closely, was unable to discover. F. C. B. "i" in it; we're both mixed up with this Guilbert." Fortunately, the Composer and the Author made up their quarrel, and as a memento PARS ABOUT PICTURES.—There is always something fresh coming of the happy termination to the temporary misunderstanding, Sir out at Messrs. DoWDESWELL's Articultural Garden in Bond Street. ARTHUR, in a truly, generous mood, designed to call the character Their latest novelty is the result of a caravan tour from Dieppe to “Sir Brian de Bois-Gilbert-and-Šullivan." Whether the myste- Nice (“Dieppend upon it, he found it very nice !” said Young PAR, rious librettist, whose name has only lately been breathed in the regardless of propriety and pronunciation) by Mr. C. P. SAINTON. public ear, insisted on Scott's original name being retained or not, CHARLES COLLins utilised such an expedition from a literary point of it is now pretty certain that there will be no departure from the view in his inimitable “Cruise upon Wheels,and this young artist great novelist's original nomenclature.

has turned similar wanderings to good artistic account. His cartes

de visite-no, I beg pardon, his caravans de visite-are numerous and A BREACH OF VERACITY.- According to the papers, the Chief Secre- for Mr. SAINTON,

in addition to returning with his caravan and him

varied. Verily, my brethren, all is caravanity! Not altogether, tary's Lodge in Dublin is blocked with parcels of clothing

designed self, bas brought back an interesting collection of original and delicate for the poor in the West of Ireland, sent in response to the request of works in oil and silver-point-in short, taken every caravantage of Lord ZETLAND and Mr. ABTHUB BALFOUR. We understand there is his special opportunities. Yours parlously, OLD PAR. no truth in the report, that amongst the first arrivals was a parcel containing Mr. O'BRIEN's br- -s, with a note explaining, that as he was about to go to prison again, he had no further use for the article. ships, 118 guns, and 3,000 men; six British ships, 52 guns, 1,229

"MAY IT PLEASE YOUR WARSHIPS.'"-Twenty-three American

men; and seven German ships, 42 guns, and 1,500 men—all in NEW IRISH DRINK.–The Parnellite "Split.”

“Pacifio" waters! Looks like Pacific, doesn't it?

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whole a very favourable view of the situation, and by its light I saw MR. PUNCH'S PRIZE NOVELS.

six fine mallard, four teal and three widgeon come hurtling down, as No. XI.-THE BOOK OF KOOKARIE.

dead as so many door-nails, and much heavier on the top of my prog

trate body. By READER PAGHARD, Author of "Queen Bathsheba's Ewers," Yawn," When I recovered Sir HENRY Was bending over me and pouring

My Ma's at Penge," " Smallun Halfboy," brandy down my throat. COODENT was sitting on the ground bind"General Porridge, D.T.,'

"Me a Kiss," "The Hemisphere's ing up his legs. "My dear old friend,” said Sir HENRY, in his Wish,” dc., &c.

kindest tone, " this Yorkshire is too dangerous. My mind is made (IN a long communication which accompanied the MS. of this novel, the up. This very night we all start for Mariannakookaland. There at Author

gives a description of his literary method. We have only room for a least our lives will be safe." few extracts. “I have been accused of plagiarism. I reply that the accusation is ridiculous. Nature is the great plagiarist, the sucker of the brains of

CHAPTER III. authors. There is no situation, however romantic or grotesque, which Nature does not sooner or later appropriate. Therefore the more natural an author travelling on, ever on, over the parching wastes, under

the scorching

We were in Mariannakookaland. We had been there a [month is, the more liable is he to envious accusations of plagiarism ... Humour may often be detected in an absence of leg-coverings. A naval African sun which all but burnt us in oar treks. Our Veldt slippers officer is an essentially humorous object ... As to literary style, it can were worn out, and our pace was consequently reduced to the merest be varied at pleasure, but the romantic Egyptian and the plain South Kraal. At rare intervals during our adventurous march, we had African are perhaps best. In future my motto will be, Ars Langa Rider seen Stars and heard of Echoes, but now not a single Kopje was left, brevis,' and a very good motto too. I like writing in couples. Personally I could and we were trudging along mournfully with

our blistered tongas nover have bothered myself to learn up all these quaint myths and literary protruding from our mouths. fairy tales, but Lang likes it.”]

Suddenly Sir HENRY spoke-"SMALLUN, my old friend,” he said, CHAPTER 1.

“do you see anything in the distance ?" My name is SMALLUN HALFBOY, a curious name for an old fellow I looked intently in the direction indicated, but could see nothing like me, who have been battered and knocked about all over the but the horizon. “Look again,” said Sir HENRY. I swept the world from Yorkshire to South

distance with my glance. It was Africa. I'm not; much of a band

a sandy, arid distance, and, natuat writing, but, bless your heart, I

rally enough, a small cloud of dust know the Bab Ballads by heart,

appeared. Then & strange thing and I can tell you it's no end of a

happened. The cloud grew and joke quoting them everywhere,

grew. It came rolling towards ne especially when you quote out of

with an unearthly noise. Then it an entirely different book. I am

seemed to be cleft in two, as by not a brave man, but nobody ever

lightning, and from its centro was a surer shot with an Express

came marching towards longbow, and no one ever killed

mighty army of Amazonian warmore Africans, men and elephants,

riors, in battle-array, chanting than I have in my time. But I do

the war-song of the Mariannakoolove blood. I love it in regular

kas. I must confess that my first rivers all over the place, with

instinct was to fly, my second to gashes and slashes and 'lopped

run, my third, and best, to remain heads and arms and legs rolling

rooted to the spot. When the about everywhere. Black blood is

army came within ten yards of us, the best variety; I mean the blood

it stopped, as if by magio, and a of black men, because nobody really

stout Amazon, of forbidding aspect, cares twopence about them, and

who seemed to be the Commanderyou can massacre several thousands

in-Chief, advanced to the front. of them in half-a-dozen lines and

On her head she wore an immense offend no single soul. And, after

native jelibag, tricked out with all, I am not certain that black

feathers; her breast was encased men have any souls, so that makes

in a huge silver tureene. Her waist things safe all round, as someone

was encircled with a broad girdle, says in the Bab Ballads.

in which were stuck all manner of

deadly arms, stuhpans, sorspans, CHAPTER II.

spîhts, and deeshecloutz. In her I was staying with my old friend

left hand she carried a deadly-lookSir HENRY HURTUS last winter at

ing kaster, while in her right she his ancestral home in Yorkshire.

brandished a massive rolinpin, a We had been shooting all day with

“ Then a strange thing happened."

frightful weapon, which produces indifferent results, and were returning home fagged and weary with internal wounds of the most awful kind. Her regiments were simiour rifles over our shoulders. I ought to have mentioned that larly armed, save that, in their case, the breast-covering was made COODENT-of course, you remember Captain COODENT, R.N.-was of of inferior 'metal, and they wore no_feathers in their head-dress. the party. Ever since he had found his legs so much admired by an The Commander held up her hand. Instantly the war-song ceased. appreciative public, he had worn a kilt without stockings, in order to Then the Commander addressed us, and her voice sounded like the show them. This, however, was not done from vanity, I think, but song of them that address the butchaboys in the morning. And this rather from a high sense of duty, for he felt that those who happened to was the torque she hurled at us,be born with personal advantages ought not to be deterred by any sense of false modesty from gratifying the reading publio by their display.

CHAPTER IV. Lord, how we had laughed to see him struggling through the cling- Oo, wanderers from a far country, I am She-who-will-nevering brambles in Sir HENBY's coverts with his eye-glass in bis eye Obey, the Queen of the Mariannakookas. I rule above, and in nether and his Express at the trail. At every step his unfortunate legs had regions, where there is Eternal Fire. Behold my Word goes forth, been more and more torn, until there was literally not a scrap of and the Ovens are made hot, and the Kee-chen-boi-lars are filled sound skin upon them anywhere. Even the beaters, a stolid lot, had with Water. Over me no Mistress holds sway. All whom I meet I roared when old VELVETEENS the second keeper had brought up to keep in subjection, save only the Weeklibuks ; them. I keep not down, poor COODENT a lump of flesh from his right leg, which he had found for they delight me. And the land over which I reign is made glad sticking on a thorn-bush in the centre of the high covert. Suddenly with fat and much stored up Dripn. Who are ye, and what seek ye Sir HENBY stopped and shaded his eyes with his hand anxiously, here? Speak ere it be too late!" And as she ceased the whole army We all imitated him, though for my part, not being a sportsman, I broke forth into a chorus, “Sho-who-will-never-Obey has spoken! had no notion what was up. " What's the time of day, śir The Word is gone forth! Speak, speak?" I confess I was alarmed, HENRY?” I ventured to whisper. Sir HENRY never looked at me, and my fears were not diminished when two of the Skulrimehds but took out his massive gold Winchester repeater and consulted it (a sort of native camp-follower) came up to COODENT and me, and in a low voice. Four thirty," I heard him say," they are about actually began to make love to us in the most forward manner. due.” Suddenly there was a whirring noise in the distance. "Duck, But Sir HENBY maintained his calm demeanour. “ She-who-willduck!”, shouted Sir HENBY, now thoroughly aroused. I im- never-Obey,” he said, “ we are peaceful traders. We bring no mediately did so, duoked right down in fact, for I did not know Commission- ." how his sentence would have ended will

ever be what might be coming, and I am a very timid man. At that moment known. Certain it is that what he said roused the Amazons to a I heard a joint report from Sir HENRY and COODENT. It gave on the frenzy of passion. They yelled and danced round ne. “He who

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brings no Commission must die !” they shouted; and in a moment we found ourselves bound tightly hand-and-foot, and marching as prisoners of war in the centre of the Mariannakookaland army.

CHAPTER V. It is unnecessary to go through the details of our marvellous escape from the lowest dungeon of the royal Palace of SURVAN TSAUL, where for months we were immured on a constant diet of suet padding: Of course we did escape, but only after killing ten thousand Mariannakookas, and then swimming for a mile in their blood. COODENT brought with him a very pretty Skulrimehd who had grown attached to him, but she drooped and pined away after he lost his false teeth in crossing a river, and tried to replace them with orange-peel, a trick he had learnt at school. Sir HENRY's fight with She-who-will-never-Obey is still remembered. He will carry the marks of her nails on his cheeks to his grave. I myself am tired of wandering. Home, Sweet Home," as the Bab Ballads have it, is the place for me.

NOT INSIDE OUT.
FAIR Maiden, you 're looking a vision of beauty,

You may comfort yourself you've no rival to fear;
But you won't take it ill if I feel it my duty

To whisper a word of advice in your ear.
Now, the word would be this—when the daylight is dawning,

Or, at any rate, when it's more early than late,
Pray remember the coachman, who, fitfully yawning

Outside in the street, finds it weary to wait.
You reck not at all of the hours that are fleeting,

You ask for an extra"-you can't be denied.
But though, doubtless, soft nothings may set your heart beating,

Yet they're awfully cold for the people outside.
Want of thought, not of heart, is the reason as ever,

So if you find leisure to read through this rhyme,
When you order your carriage, in future endeavour

To prevent any waiting—by being in time.

THE END.

ER

AN UNREHEARSED EFFECT.

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (By Our Own Reciter.)

THE Publisher of The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine,

earnestly requests the reviewer, appealing to his heart in the reddest I WENT to see the Pantomime this Christmas in our town.

of red ink, on a slip of paper pasted on to the cover of the Magazine, We laughed enough the opening night to bring the theatre down. not to extract and quote more than one column of “Talleyrand's

The piece was Burleybumbo, Memoirs," which appear in this

the Old Giant, and his number for January. The Pub-
Men ;

lisher of the C. I. M. M. does
Fairy Starlight, Little Pop- not appeal personally to the Baron
sey, and the Demon of the who is now the last, bar one, of
Glen.

the Barons, and that bar one is
The Supers were collected one at the Bar,—but, for all that,

from the local talent the Baron hereby and hereon takes
round,

his solummest Half-a-Davey or
And for Burleybumbo's ser- his entire Davey, that he will
vant the Blacksmith, not write, engrave, or represent,

JOHN, they found : or cause to be, &c., for purposes
A stalwart varlet was re- of quotation, one single word,

quired to carry off his much less line, of Tallyho-beg
foes

pardon, of Talleyrand, -extracts
To Burleybumbo Castle, from whose memoirs are now ap-
where he ate them as he pearing in the aforesaid C.I.M.M.
chose.

But all he will say at present is His minions, who wore this, that, if the secret and private hideous masks, had Memoirs haven't got in them any

nothing much to say, thing more thrilling or startling, or out of the merest common-place, So an IRVING was not than appears in this number of the C.I.M.M., then the Baron will say wanted to do their part of that he would prefer reading such contributions as M. de Blowitz's the play.

story of “How he became a Special,” or The Pigmies of the African On this eventful night the house was packed from roof to pit, Forest by HENRY M. STANLEY in the same number of this Mag. And the Manager was jubilant at having made a hit.

What the Baron dearly loves is, ELLIOT STOCK-IN-TRADE S The The Curtain drawing clowly op, revealed a flowery glade,

Book-worm, always most interesting to Book-worms, and almost as In which the Fairy Starlight and her lovely maidens played. interesting to Book-grubs or Book-butterflies. By the way, the The wicked Demon then came on, and round the stage did glower ; publishing office of The Book-worm ought to be in Grub Street. For No mortal man could e'er withstand his wrath or evil power.

wbat sort of tish is The Book-worm an attractive bait? I suppose Last of all came Burleybumbo with his crew, a motley horde, there are queer fish in the Old Book trade that can take in any Qar old friend, Blacksmith JOHN, was in attendance on his lord. number of Book-worms, as is shown from a modern instance, well They were singing and carousing, when a man rushed in to say and wisely commented upon in this very number for January, No. 38, That a dozen wealthy travellers were coming down that way. which is excellent food for worms; the whole series, indeed, must be The band dispersed, and hid themselves, in hopes that they might a very Diet of Worms. Success to the Book-vorm! May it grow plunder

to double the

size, and be a glow-worm, to enlighten us in the byeThe unsuspecting wayfarers. Alas! now came the blunder: paths of literature. Prosit ! ” says the Baron. Old John he wouldn't hide himself, but coolly walked about

I would that some one would write of BROWNING's work as HENRY Advancing to the footlights, he looked around-but hark! a shout:-VAN DYKE has written of TENNYEON's. To the superficial and Confound you! Dash my-| Just come off! Hi, you! Who cursory reader of the Latreate, the Baron, sitting, by the fire on a are you? JOHN!”

winter's night, the wind howling over the sea, and the snow drifting "Not if I knowsh it, jolly old pal! I've only just come on!” against the window, and being chucked in handfuls down the Thus saying, he lumbered round the stage. The Prompter's heart chimney, and frizzling on the fire, says, get this book, published by had sunk :

ELKIN MATHEWS : ça donne à penser, and this is its great merit. No doubt about the matter-Burleybumbo's man is drunk !

“Come into the Garden, Maud" -No, thank you, not to-night; but “Come off! Come off !” from every wing was now the angry cry; give me my shepherd's pipe, with the fragrant bird's-eye in it, with "Me off, indeed! Oh, would yer ? Sh’like to see the feller try!" TOV ypogov, while I sit by the cheerful fire, in the best of good Burleybumbo then appeared, and vainly tried to drag bim back. company-my books. John stove his pasteboard head in with a most refreshing crack. Our Mr. GRIFFITHES (CHESTER, MAYHEW, BROOME, AND GRIFThe wicked Demon now rushed on; his supernatural might FITHES) has been all the way Prom Bedford Row to Swazieland, Was very little use to him on this surprising night.

and has written a lively narrative of his perilous journey. He went He tried to push him down the glade, but here again John sold him; cn a professional retainer. . You don't catch Bedford Row in SwazieHe caught the Demon round the waist, and at the Prompter bowled land on other terms. Being there, he kept his eyes open, saw a him.

good deal, and describes his impressions in racy fashion. He did not Ah! such a shindy ne'er was seen, such riot and such rage – like the coffee served en route, and was disappointed with the It was the finest rally,” ever seen on any stage!

Southern Cross; but on the whole enjoyed the trip: One would 'Mid shrieks and cat-calls, whistles shrill, hysterics and guffaws, naturally expect that the price of his book would be six-and-eightThey rang, the Curtain down amidst uproarious applause.

pence, or, regarding it in the form of a letter, three-and-fourpence, The piece is still a great success, but, I regret to say,

but BRADBURY, AGNEW, & Co. issue it at a shilling. John's name appears no longer in the bills of that fine play!

THE BARON DE BOOK - WORMS & Co.

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Tax BRAL, “BELAY, YOU TWO JOANNIES !-AVAST QUARRELLING! GIVE ME A CLOSE-TIME,' AND

LEAVE THE SEA' AN OPEN QUESTION.”

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