FLIGHTS AND SIGHTS;

OR, A SOME STEPS IN THE WRONG DIRECTION. THE recent controversy with the Dean as to the safety and feasibility of letting batches of five hundred adventurous sightseers at a time loose among the intricate ladders and dark and dangerous galleries that lead to the dome of St. Paul's, having spurred the Working-Men's Committee" to the consideration of further gymnastic opportunities of a similar description, the following hitherto unattempted feats will shortly be added to any complete list of things to be done by intending visitors to the Metropolis:

Ascent of Iron Flag-staff on the top of Victoria Tower, Westminster.-May be made daily by parties of not less than twelve, at any hour from 3 A.M. to 9 P.M. Tickets at Lord Chamberlain's office, the Lunacy Commissioners, Charing Cross Hospital, and all respectable licensed victuallers.

Cleopatra's Needle, and Albert Memorial, Hyde Park.-Same conditions, excepting that for the latter a guide with ice-hatchet and ropes must be hired at the base. N.B. For the convenience of inexperienced climbers, a solicitor, with Forms of Wills ready for signature, will be generally found in attendance on foggy or wet afternoons between 12 and 4. Witnesses, if required, can always be secured on the spot by payment of a small fee.

The Outside Parapet of Waterloo Bridge.-Free. Intending visitors over eighty should, in windy weather, get a policeman to accompany them along the ledge on all-fours and hold them securely by the hair when turning corners.

Main Drainage System.-Can be inspected at all points, and descent made immediately on application to any of the local officials. This should, however, not be attempted after dusk without a map and lucifers. N.B. There is no cab-stand at Barking.

The Interior of the Chandelier at Drury Lane Theatre.-Through the roof at any hour. As the above is seen to its best advantage when lighted, a free admission for two to the Upper Boxes, giving

66

THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER.
THE First of September, remember
The day of supremest delight.
Get ready the cartridge, the partridge
Must fall in the stubble ere night.

The breechloader 's ready, and steady
The dog that we taught in old days;
He's firm to his duty, a beauty

That cares for but one person's praise.

He's careful in stubble, no trouble
In turnips, he's keen as a man;
But looks on acutely, and mutely

Seems saying, "Shoot well, if you can!"

They flash from the cover-what lover
Of sport does not thrill as they rise,
In feathered apparel? Each barrel
Kills one, as the swift covey flies.

So on through the morning, still scorning
All rest until midday has past,

When lunch should be present, and pleasant
That al fresco breaking of fast.

One pipe, then he doing, pursuing
The sport that no sport can eclipse:
So homeward to dinner, a winner

Of praise from the fairest of lips.

MARRY! COME UP!-In consequence of the passing of the Married Woman's Property Act, it will probably be found necessary to alter, considerably, some of the express conditions mentioned in the Marriage Service. For richer, for poorer "must be now struck out, and, perhaps, 36 for better, for worse" will go with it. With all my worldly goods I thee endow"-cela va sans dire. Henceforward, the wife has her own property to herself, and the husband his to himself. Self-preservation is the first law of Nature. But, as we are coming back to the "first law of Nature," how far beyond it will the next step take us?

SEVERAL "blue hares" have been shot on the moors. What a lot Baron ABOMÉLIQUE, surnamed Blue Beard, must have had of 'em in his time.

access to a prohibited back staircase, will be found most convenient. Care should be taken not to drop heavy walking-sticks, rolls of half-pence, or front-door keys on to the heads of the occupants of the stalls beneath. Moreover, the chandelier not being capable of supporting the weight of more than two visitors at a time, it is as well to arrange with the policeman in pursuit, and offer him a small consideration to wait in the neck.

The Tigers' Den at the Zoological Gardens, Regent's Park.-Free daily. The best hour for entering the above is about twenty minutes before feeding-time, when the animals are generally pretty fresh and always lively and amusing; strangers who are paying their first visit, however, would do well to provide themselves with a complete diver's dress, a pickaxe, fog-signal, and a side of raw beef. There are no fees.

The Dome of the Albert Hall.-At all hours by fire-escape in felt slippers. Care should be taken to avoid, if possible, going through the glass roof into the larger organ-pipes.

The Weathercock on the New Law Courts.-In company with the Lord Chancellor, at any hour after dark, &c., &c.

But will Mr. DICKENS kindly look at his capital Dictionary, and revise still further in the same direction?

SIR,-Your tone is low, scurrilous, libellous and ungentlemanly. That article of yours on Butchers is disgraceful, and I hope the trade as one man will rise and never read your wretched journal again. Of course I am not in the trade myself. Yours disgustedly,

A FORMER BUYER.

P.S.-If you want to pick out real abuses, go in for the Bakers and Fishmongers. I think I might help you there.

GLADSTONIUS AMIDST THE RUINS OF THE SESSION.

"A Session of utter ruin and discomfiture."-MR. GLAD

STONE.

SIR,-I inclose the following. It really happened. My little girl was coming in from a walk, and her mother asked her where she had been. To which my little girl (only seven, and as like MILLAIS' picture of "Cherry Ripe" as two peas) replied quickly, "Out, Mamma. It is early for me to be out, as you said that only girls of eighteen could be out." It would make a charming sketch for one of your talented artists. Yours sincerely,

DELENDA est! Sounds dreary, does it not,
My phrase of lamentation? Nor, indeed,
Less dreary looks the wasted Session's wreek
Lying around me, lingering last and lone.
I'll take a seat here on this fallen bulk
Of a lost Bill, of many such so fallen

Most melancholy type. Here, there, all prone,

Scattered and shattered like the column-shards Of Sardis or Persepolis they lie,

That should have reared so rare an edifice

DEAR SIR,-I had the pleasure of meeting you at a garden-party some seven years ago, though, as we were not introduced, you may possibly have forgotten me. Still, on the strength of this intimacy, which, I am bound to confess is slight, I beg to enclose you some drawings done by a niece of mine, which I think display undoubted talent. They are of course crude; but you know, my dear Sir, that only practice makes perfect, and the Artist is only eleven years of age. Still, she is very ready to learn, and would gladly take any hints or advice from Mr. SAMBOURNE, whose works, he may be pleased to know, she greatly admires. It would be a real act of charity to put her pictures in Punch, as she is one of eleven children, the two eldest boys of whom, you will be sorry to hear, have lately taken to frequenting public-houses, and betting on horse-races with the potmen.

Of Liberal glory and magnificence.

They never did, wrecked ere well reared by shock

Excuse my obtruding these family matters on your notice, but I know that you are always ready to listen to those in distress. Yours sincerely, South Belgravia, S. W.

MARIA GUSHER.

Brute shock of Vandal WARTON, or that Hun,

Rude, unrelenting HEALY, toppled o'er

By the bull-rush of huge ICONOCLAST

Of the torn coat-tails; capsized in collision

With sour-faced SALISBURY's phalanxed men-at-arms,

Eaten and worn by dull Delay's time-tooth

That gnaws and gnaws with the persistent spite
Of a curst woman's nagging, lo! they lie
In chaos and collapse, the merest mock
Of my sublime foreshadowed large design
Set forth in far Midlothian. Miserable,
Most lame, and impotent conclusion! How
Wonder if smug-faced STAFFORD slily sneer,
Or black-browed CECIL chortle? Hum! Ha! Yes!
Bad, very bad. And yet, 'tis passing strange
I don't feel half so wretched as I should,
"My bosom's lord sits lightly on its throne,"
And-had I minor vices-I could puff
The mild Manilla 'midst these ruins, nay,
Tipple the well-mixed cup, much, very much,
As Cockneys pic-nic-ing amidst the wreck
Of Melrose or of Medmenham puff the pipe
Or swig the penny-pop. Aha! tart CECIL,
"For this relief much thanks." These columns prone
Shall rear again firm-based as Egypt's piles,
Or my Egyptian policy,-there's the building
To set against these ruins. Ruins? Nay!
These be not ruins, but a builder's yard
A little out of order. When, anon,
In chill October, I resume, reshape,

Rule, line-and-plummet, gang my men and gag—
So malice calls it-rude recalcitrance,
Then shall the promise and the potency
Of what Midlothian pictured loom out large
In bulk and beauty matching my large hopes
And visions vivid, darkening the despair
Of sour self-shadowed SALISBURY, cheering up
My something fate-chilled followers, leaving me
A better than tree-feller's passing fame,
That of the Liberal Balbus, who can build
As well as batter down. So mote it be !
And now, for further cheer, I'll take a peep
At the St. James's, see how GREENWOOD's gall
Like Pennsylvanian oil-well flows and flows.
Political petroleum 'whelming all,

In indiscriminate blasting, sober sense,
Sagacity, good temper, once his own,
As well as all my workings, proved success
Of the All-Hated stirring it, as stones
Stir the hot Geyser to redoubled rage
Of wild up-spouting. It will be such fun!

"A STITCH IN TIME SAVES NINE." and other provident provisions, have been making some THE Amalgamated Tailors, with their Benevolent Fund, little stir of late. Probably these are the traditional Nine Tailors who make a man?

A. By means of that Cuttlefish of Commerce, a Company.
Q. What is a Company?

A. A composite partnership for the annihilation of conscience and the minimising of responsibility.

Q. How is this achieved?

A. By the devices of division and distribution.
Q. Can you explain the processes?

A. It is an admitted maxim that what is everybody's business is nobody's business. The principle applies with peculiar force to "business" involving questions of conscience or of responsibility. Some organisms are only multiplied by division, each section forming a complete and independent creature. It is precisely the reverse with conscience and responsibility. A divided responsibility has no appreciable weight, and a distributed conscience does not work. There is nothing so conscienceless as corporate responsibility, nor so irresponsible as corporate conscience.

Q. You spoke of a Company as a cuttle-fish. Would you liken a Railway Company to that creature?

A. It is more like it than any other Company.
Q. How so?

4. Because it reaches it victims through so many arms and suckers while it is so difficult for its victims to get at its head. Q. Illustrate this.

A. In one way among myriads. In pursuance of some autocratic, irrational and unannounced bye-law from head-quarters a hundred ticket-collectors at a hundred stations may be ready at any moment to mulet you in excess fare. It will take weeks of correspondence to bring the surcharge home to the "Corporate Conscience" in its hidden lair.

5. The torture of Imperative Stupidity.

6. The torture of Clownish Incivility.

7. The tortures of Dirt, Deprivation, and Physical Discomfort generally.

Q. How is difficulty of access secured?

A. By many ingenious devices, such as the multiplication of steep slopes and precipitous staircases, the careful laying out of intricate passages and complicated corridors, the artful adjustment of numerous narrow wickets and the sedulously maintained mystery of many and capriciously used platforms. Perhaps, however, the most successfully tormenting of these devices of delay is the great Ticket trick. Q. What is the special purpose of this device?

A. To make the procuring of the necessary pasteboard-pass as difficult as possible to the would-be passenger.

Q. For what reason?

A. Reason has nothing whatever to do with Railway regulations. Q. How is it managed?

A. First, by refusing to issue the ticket for a particular train until that train is about to start, and a long, close-packed, and agitated queue of passengers is in waiting; secondly, by making the species of port-hole through which the tickets are issued so small that only one passenger at a time can obtain a ticket, and that slowly and with exceeding difficulty.

Q. What are the results of these singular arrangements ? A. Uncomfortable hurry, great confusion, needless waiting, and frequent missing of trains. A traveller arriving in good time, must watchfully linger in a dreary and draughty corridor until it pleases the haughty young gentlemen within the rabbit-hutch to raise the hatch thereof. A traveller arriving rather late, must take his place at the end of a long "tail" of eager and angry applicants, with much probability of getting his ticket just in time to lose his train. In any case, he has to stoop and shout his instructions through a little square hole into the reluctant ears of an austere being, who is the victim of constitutional superciliousness and chronic disgust. This Diogenes in a box is generally hard of hearing, slow of understanding, and much readier with rude questions than with civil answers. When he deigns-after the delay due to his dignity-to understand you aright, he "chucks" your ticket at you in a manner suggestive of lofty contempt or deep resentment. If you require change, he "dabs" it down in a scattered heap, leaving you, if you are nervous or considerate, to claw it up hastily; or, if you are dogged or selfishly indifferent, to count it carefully. In the former case you may possibly be cheated. In the latter case you will certainly be hatedby the impatient crowd waiting behind you for their turn at the port-hole. In this dilemma, the printed notification, that you are requested to count your change before leaving, as no correction can subsequently be made, will probably strike you as sardonic, if not impertinent.

Q. But has this painful process always to be gone through before you can obtain a Railway ticket ?

4. Not in its entirety. At slack times, or in little-frequented Stations, you may escape certain of the worst passages in the ordeal.