_Miss Friv._ Is that supposed to be an ill.u.s.tration of life on the Rocky Mountains?

_Mr. Hopl._ (_bringing the full powers of his mind to bear on the subject_). I should be inclined to doubt myself whether it afforded any accurate idea of either the industry or the--er--relaxations peculiar to that region, which can hardly be favourable to such pursuits.

_Miss Friv._ They might find it useful for escaping from a grizzly, mightn't they?

_Mr. Hopl._ Hardly, if, as I have always been given to understand, the grizzly bear is an equally expert climber. I imagine their t.i.tle of "Rocky Mountain Wonders" is merely indicative of their--er--origin, and that their performances would indeed excite more wonder in their native country than anywhere else. One should always guard against taking these things in too literal a spirit.

[Miss F. _a.s.sents demurely, and is suddenly moved to mirth, as she is careful to explain, by the sight of a n.i.g.g.e.r, which, Mr. H. very justly remarks, is scarcely a subject for so much amus.e.m.e.nt_.

_Mr. Bravo_ (_after the Corps de Ballet have performed various evolutions on a large raft_). I call that uncommonly pretty, all those girls dancing there in the sunlight, eh?

_Mr. Blazz._ Pretty enough--in its proper place.

_Mr. Bravo_ (_losing his patience at last_). Why, hang it all, you wouldn't have the Ballet danced under water, would you?

_Mr. Blazz._ Well, it would be more of a novelty, at any rate.

[Mr. BRAVO _decides that "it was a mistake to come out with a chap like_ BLAZZEY."

IN THE SHILLING SEATS.

_A Small Sharp Boy_ (_with an admiring Father, Mother, and Grandmother_). Father, why ha' them Injuns all got feathers stuck round their 'eds like shuttlec.o.c.ks, eh? Is it to show as they're in the terbaccer line, eh, Father? Is the gentleman on the bicycle a real demon, eh, Father? Ain't he like what a real demon is? _Why_ ain't you never seen one, Father? Think you'll _ever_ see one, eh? Why's that man going right up atop of that pole for? Why is he goin' to jump off?

Will he git drownded, eh, Father? Don't he _ever_ git drownded? Could _you_ dive off from as 'igh as that with your legs tied? Could Uncle BILL? Could Gran'ma, with _'er_ legs tied? [_&c., &c._

DURING THE WALRUS HUNT.

_Shilling and Sixpenny Spectators._ That's the police station on that boat where the two Bobbies are.... 'Ere's a rummy couple coming along in this boat! See the bloke with the bald 'ed, and the ole girl in a pink bonnet?... There, they've run slap into them others, and the ole bloke's got his 'eels in the air. Oh, dear, oh, dear!... Look at the bobbies tryin' to run 'em in. Lor, they're all pourin' water on to each other's 'eds as 'ard as they can go! 'Ere's the ole walrus swimmin' up now, d'ye _see_? And the ole Clown a fishin' for 'im. 'E's bin an' dragged 'im 'in 'ed foremost! Look at the walrus a duckin' o'

the ole woman. Hor, hor, if ever I see the like o' that! Is that like 'ow they 'unt walruses, Father, eh? Blest if the ole walrus ain't got into the station 'ouse _after_ 'em. Look at 'em all gittin' out on the roof--_in_ they jump! And the ole girl goin' in backards, hor, hor!

And the other bloke any'ow. See the 'ole admiral in the c.o.c.ked 'at a takin' sights through 'is spy-glorss! Now they're gittin' the 'arpoon ready. There, they've copped 'im--it's all over! Well, that _was_ a good lark, and no mistake!

AT THE LANDING-PLACE--AFTER SHOOTING THE CHUTES.

Oh, it was perfectly splendid! We put the rugs right over our heads, and didn't get wet a bit!... I don't know if you're aware of it, my dear, but you've got black streaks all down your face. Gracious! it's the dye from my veil. Do I look very dreadful, dear? Well, it _shows_, of course--but I wouldn't touch it, or you'll make it worse.... This lot got a ducking, and no mistake--_look_ at 'em--ho, ho!... I say, dear old chap, you _ought_ to have come too--it was ripping! Splashed?

No, nothing to speak of. Eh? "My hat?" What's _wrong_ with it? Oh, confound it all! I only took a front seat to oblige those two girls.

Yes, _I_ can see they're giggling at me as well as you can. Look here, old fellow, _do_ you know if there's a place here where I can get my hat ironed, and buy a collar and tie? Because I've got to meet the CHAFFINGTONS here, and dine with 'em and that. "So have _you_?" Then _that_'s why you backed out of going down the Chute! Why the deuce didn't you _say_ so? Oh, if you're going to stand there laughing like a fool, I'm off! I may just have time to---- Hang it; there _are_ the CHAFFINGTON girls! Is my collar too _beastly_ limp? you might _tell_ a fellow!

TO A DROSHKY-DRIVER.

(_By a Quondam Fare._)

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Here's a health to you, GOSPODIN IVaNOFF-- Or whatever your name may chance to be-- Of _vodka_ I'll toss you a full _stakan_ off (A tumbler, I mean, of _eau de vie_); And I'll sing you _fortissimo con furore_ Your national hymn, in a cheerful key, ('Twill colour with local tone my story, To start with your "_Bozhe Tsarya khrani_").

'Twas a lively morning, my hirsute Jehu, In Petersburg once we together spent; And now in my sketch-book I still can see you (The annexed for your portrait's humbly meant).

Your costume resembled in part a butcher's-- A dull blue gown of a vast extent, With top-boots, like each of the other _kutschers_ And shocking bad hat, all "bashed" and bent.

Ere long you called me your "little brother,"

Or else--your knowledge of Court to show-- (What one Russian "High Excellence" styles another) "_Vuisokoprevoskhoditelstvo._"

You wanted to learn how to greet an acquaintance In English; I said, to be _comme il faut_, That "G.o.d save the Queen" was the proper sentence-- I own that my hoax was a trifle low.

A large percentage, my gay _izvostchik_, I failed of your jokes to understand; But I safely say you displayed the _most_ cheek Of any I've met by sea or land.

When you pitched me clean out on the Nevski pavement, With syllable brief I loudly banned; But as _dam_ in your lingo "I'll give" (you knave!) meant, You grinned, and for "tea-money" held your hand.

I shall never forget that awful jolting I got as you whirled me round about In your backless car; for your b.u.mping, bolting, You really, my Vanka, deserved the knout.

Well, I won't say "Good-bye," but "_Do svidanya_"-- Though whether we'll meet again I doubt; If you ever _should_ wander to far BRITANNIA, I fear you will probably find me "Out."

MOTTO FOR PROFESSORS OF PALMISTRY.-- "_Palmam qui meruit ferat._"

_i.e._, "Who has paid his money may bare his palm."

It is proposed to establish a fire-station, "with fifty men, on the Thames Embankment." For what purpose? In case of anybody setting the Thames on Fire?

Mrs. R. says she never has toast for breakfast, but always "fresh-airated bread."

THE MOAN OF A THEATRE-MANAGER.

Who gets, by hook or crook, from me Admittance free, though well knows he That myriads turned away will be?

The Deadhead.

Who, while he for his programme pays The smallest silver coin, inveighs Against such fraud with eyes ablaze?

The Deadhead.

Who to his neighbour spins harangues, On how he views with grievous pangs The dust that on our hangings hangs?

The Deadhead.

Who, in a voice which rings afar, Declares, while standing at the bar, Our drinks most deleterious are?

The Deadhead.

Who aye withholds the claps and cheers That others give? Who jeers and sneers At all he sees and all he hears?

The Deadhead.

Who loudly, as the drama's plot Unfolds, declares the tale a lot Of balderdash and tommy-rot?

The Deadhead.

Who dubs the actors boorish hinds?

Who fault with all the scenery finds?

Who with disgust his molars grinds?

The Deadhead.