_'Arry._ "No 'am! _(Pointing to notice.)_ What's that?"

_Says one 'Arry to another 'Arry._ "I say, old man, the papers say they 'ope 1882 will be the openin' of a new era. What's that?"

_Second 'Arry._ "Openin' of a new 'earer? Why, a telephone, of course, you juggins!"

A SONG FOR c.o.c.kNEY SPORTSMEN

The hart's in the Highlands, Of that there's no fear, And 'tis there you may buy lands For stalking the deer: But the hills are no trifle, And they're windy and cold, So your wish you'd best stifle, Or buy, and be--sold.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GOOD NEWS

_'Arry._ "T'aint no good miking a fuss about it, yer know, guv'nor! Me and my pals must 'ave our 'd'y out'!"

_Foreign Fellow-traveller._ "Aha! Die out! You go to die out? Mon Dieu!

I am vairy glad to 'ear it. It is time!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FORCE OF HABIT; OR, CITY SUSPICIONS

_'Arry (who is foraging for his camping party)._ "Look here, my good woman, are these cabbages fresh?"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Little Dobbs._ "Hullo! what's that? Looks like a mowing machine."

_Hairdresser (who does not appreciate "chaff")._ "No, sir, 'tain't a mowin' machine. It's meant to give gentlemen fresh _h_air."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: BITING SARCASM

_Gentleman with the Broom (who has inadvertently splashed the artist's favourite shipwreck)._ "Ow yus! I suppose yer think ye're the president o' the Roy'l Acadermy! A settin' there in the lap er luxury!!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FOREIGN COMPEt.i.tION

_British Habitual Criminal._ "Well, if these 'ere furrin aliens is a-goin' ter take the bread out of a honest man's mouth--blimey if I don't turn copper!"]

VERY APPROPRIATE.--Says 'Arry, "Regular good place for a medical man to live in is 'Ill Street, Berkeley Square. But why don't he cure it and make it Quite Well Street?"

COMMENT BY A c.o.c.kNEY

Bad-Gastein! Sounds more fit than nice, and yet They say most healing waters there are had.

Strange, though, that people fancy good to get By going to the Bad!

'Arriet read from a daily paper, "Navigation in the Ouse." "I s'pose,"

said 'Arry, "as the members are goin' to 'ave a 'ouse-boat this season.

Which 'ouse? Hupper or lower? Whichever's to steer? The Speaker or Lord 'Igh Chancellor?"

TWO DISTINCT CLa.s.sES.--The aristocracy and the '_Arry_-stocracy.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WITHERING.

_'Arry._ "I s'y--does one tip the witers 'ere?"

_Alphonse._ "Not onless you are reecher zan ze vaiter, sare!"]

THE BLESSED HERITAGE

["Poverty is a blessed heritage."--_Mr. Carnegie._]

'Ere, Lizer, wheer's yer grat.i.tood? 'E ses, ses Mr. C., As it's a blessed 'eritage, is poverty, ses 'e.

Then think 'ow thankful an' 'ow blest we oughter feel, us two, But yet yer that contrairy that I'm blest, Liz, if yer do.

Wot? 'Ungry? Wot is 'unger? Don't it vary the monotony An' Wooster sorce yer vittles, that's supposin' as yer've got any?

Then think of them pore millionaires wot misses the delight Of 'avin' 'ad no breakfast on a roarin' happyt.i.te.

Then money! I Think, Elizer, of them cruel stocks and shares Wot makes their lives a torter to them martyred millionaires Oh, ain't we much more appy when the sticks is up the spout An' the kids is wantin' dinner and 'as got ter go without?

And don't it make yer 'eart bleed, too, to think of all the care Of mansions in the country and an 'ouse in Grosvenor Square?

Ah, what would them pore fellers give if honly they could come An' live with all their fam'ly in our garret hup the slum?

Wot, Liz? Yer'd like ter see 'em come? 'Ere, none o' that theer charf!

Yer'd sell yer bloomin' birthright for a pot of 'arf-an-'arf?

Lor, Liz! Ter think as you should be in sich a thankless mood!

Yer've got a "blessed 'eritage," an' 'ere's yer grat.i.tood!