unlikely to give employment to Gentlemen of the long robe;_" _i.e._,
Administration suit, with six sets of solicitors, ten years of chamber
practice, three further considerations, and the complete exhaustion of
the estate in costs.

"_Mr. Nemo, as a Solicitor in his office, is a very able man;_" _i.e._,
That although Mr. NEMO, away from his profession, would shrink from
doing anything calculated to get himself turned out of the West-End
Club to which he belongs; in his _sanctum_ he would cheerfully sell
the bones of his grandmother by auction, and prosecute his own father
and mother for petty larceny, arson, or murder, always supposing he
saw his way to his costs.

EPISTOLATORY.

"_A thousand thanks for your nice long, sympathetic letter;_" _i.e._,
"Great bore to have to reply to six pages of insincere gush."

"_Please excuse this hurried scrawl;_" _i.e._, "That'll cover any
mistakes in spelling, &c."

"_Only too delighted;_" _i.e._, "_Can't_ refuse, confound it!"

* * * * *

[Illustration: ON THE SWOOP!]

* * * * *

IN THE KNOW.

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

THERE was some good racing at Newmarket last week, and, as usual,
every single race proved up to the hilt the extraordinary accuracy of
my forecasts. I said a year ago that "_Bandersnatch_ was a colt who
hadn't a chance of winning a first-class race. Only a March hare or a
Bank-holiday boozer would think of backing him." _Bandersnatch's name
never even appeared on the race-card last week._ Mr. JEREMY says the
colt is dead, as if that had anything to do with it; but of course if
the gullish herd chooses to cackle after Mr. JEREMY it's no use trying
to help them.

The hippopotamus-headed dolts who pinned their faith to _Molly
Mustard_ must have learnt their lesson by this time. Of course _Molly
Mustard_ defeated that overrated sham _Undercut_; but what of that?
When _Undercut_ was placed second to _Pandriver_ at the North
Country Second Autumn Handicap two years ago, I warned everybody
that _Wobbling Willie_ who is half-brother to _Rattlepate_ by
_Spring Onion_, ought to have made a certainty of the race if the
gruel-brained idiots who own him had only rubbed his back with DAFFY'S
Elixir twice a-day before going to bed. As it was _Wobbling Willie_
rolled about like a ship at sea, and Brighton Pref passed him in a
common canter. That scarcely made _Molly Mustard_ a second _Eclipse_.