sums party-death
And diplomatic bungle.

"'Beshrew him for a----!'" "GRUMPER'S speech is strong;
Flanders and screeds of old satiric song
Blend in his vigorous diction.
Around, in lounging groups or knots apart,
Are lesser lights of thought, small stars of art,
And petty chiefs of fiction.

"Hosts of the nameless, fameless, 'Small Unknown';
Men who can form a 'corner', float a loan,
Wire-pull a local Caucus,
But cannot paint poor pictures, write bad plays,
Or on a platform wildly flame or praise
In rolling tones or raucous.

"These lounge and hover, sip champagne and whiff
Mild cigarettes; these too, in secret sniff
At 'the whole queer caboodle.'
_Why_ do they meet? How shall I say, good friend?
Modern symposiasts seem a curious blend
Of porcupine and poodle.

"'In these Saturnian days Amphitryon spreads
His meshes wide, and counts not brains but heads.
The Tadpoles and the Tapers
Are scorned by the few Titans; true; but aims
Differ; to some 'tis much to see their names
Strung in the morning papers.

"So Private Views are popular, and men
Meet just to prompt the social scribe's smart pen.
Taste too austerely winnows
Town's superflux of chaff from its scant wheat:
Our host prefers to mix, in his Great Meet,
The Tritons and the minnows!"

"With mutual scorn!" I cried. "Has Fashion power
Thus to unhumanise the 'Social Hour,'
Theme of old poets' vaunting?
Gregarious spites and egotisms harsh!--
Foregathering of frog-swarms in a marsh
Yields music as enchanting."

(_To be continued._)

* * * * *

HOLIDAY CATECHISM.

_Mr. Punch._ Well, Master JACK HORNER, where have you been _this_ time?

_Master J. H._ POLLY and I visited Madame Tussaud's,--they have got Mr.
SALA there, looking so amiable! We _were_ pleased to see him! And POLLY
afterwards _would_ take me into the Chamber of Horrors! But I paid her
out by getting her to try a boat on "Ye Ocean Wave," as they call it, at
HENGLER'S!

_Mr. P._ Done anything else?

_Master J. H._ To be sure. Looked in at "Niagara," where they have got a
Forest of Christmas trees. Capital! Popped into "Waterloo," opposite.
Smashed skull in a trophy of arms amongst the relics--lovely! The
picture, too, not half bad. Then improved our minds at the Tudor
Exhibition.

_Mr. P._ And where else have you been?

_Master