the explanation. The value of these eccentric farthing
pamphlets may one day be thousands of pounds. _Mem_.--Twopence would
be well invested in purchasing four of them.

_Salads and Sandwiches_ is an attractive title, specially at this
season. The arrangement of the book is, like the salad, a little
mixed. When, however, the knowing Baron finds that abomination known
as salad dressing, or "salad mixing," which is sold at the grocer's,
recommended by a writer who professes to teach salad-making, then he
closes the book, and reads no more that day. This author, who is in
his salad days, might bring out a book entitled _How to Suck Eggs; or,
Letters to my Grandmother_. It is a suggestion worth considering, says

THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.

[Illustration]

TO PYRRHA ON THE THAMES.

O Pyrrha! say what youth in "blazer" drest,
Woos you on pleasant Thames these summer eves;
For whom do you put on that dainty vest,
That sky-blue ribbon and those _gigot_ sleeves.

"_Simplex munditiis_," as HORACE wrote,
And yet, poor lad, he'll find that he is rash;
To-morrow you'll adorn some other boat,
And smile as kindly on another "mash."

As for myself--I'm old, and look askance
At flannels and flirtation; not for me
Youth's idiotic rapture at a glance
From maiden eyes: although it comes from thee.

* * * * *

IN THE KNOW.

_(By Mr. Punch's Own Prophet.)_

I am a modest man, as well as an honest one. Censure cannot move me
by one hair's breadth from the narrow path of rectitude; praise cannot
unduly puff me up. Had I been other than I am, this last week would
have gone fatally near to ruining that timid and shrinking diffidence
which (I say it without egotism) marks me off from the poisonous,
pestilential, hydrocephalous, putty-faced, suet-brained reptiles who
disgrace the profession to which I belong. All I wish now to do is
to point out that _I am the only prophet_ who indicated, without any
beating about the bush, that _Marvel_ would win the Stewards' Cup
at Goodwood. My admirers have recognised the fact, and my private
residence has been choked by an avalanche of congratulatory
despatches, including two or three from some of the highest in the
land. H.S.H., the Grand Duke of PFEIFENTOPF says:--"You have me with
your writings much refreshed. I have the whole revenues of the Grand
Duchy against one thousand _flaschen_ of lager bier gebetted, and I
have won him on your