ice, they do not distract the
attention from the quality and whiteness of your linen. Some that we have
seen were evidently intended for cabinet pictures, rifle targets and
breast-plates.

_Pins._--These necessary adjuncts to the cravat of a gentleman have
undergone a singular revolution during late years; but we confess we are
admirers of the present fashion, for if it is desirable to indulge in an
ornament, it is equally desirable that everybody should be gratified by
the exhibition thereof. We presume that it is with this commendable
feeling that pins'-heads (whose smallness in former days became a proverb)
should now resemble the apex of a beadle's staff; and, as though to make
"assurance doubly sure," a plurality is absolutely required for the
decoration of a gentleman. In these times, when political partisanship is
so exceedingly violent, why not make the pins indicative of the opinions
of the wearer, as the waistcoat was in the days of Fox. We could suggest
some very appropriate designs; for instance, the heads of Peel and Wakley,
connected by a _very_ slight link--Sibthorp and Peter Borthwick by a
series of long-car rings--Muntz and D'Israeli cut out of very hard wood,
and united by a hair-chain; and many others too numerous to mention.

* * * * *

HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY.

PARODIED BY A XX TEETOTALLER.

To drink, or not to drink? That is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler inwardly to suffer
The pangs and twitchings of uneasy stomach,
Or to take brandy-toddy 'gainst the colic,
And by imbibing end it? To drink,--to sleep,--
To snore;--and, by a snooze, to say we end
The head-ache, and the morning's parching thirst
That drinking's heir to;--'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To drink,--to pay,--
To pay the waiter's bill?--Ay--there's the rub;
For in that snipe-like bill, a stop may come,
When we would shuffle off our mortal score,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes sobriety of so long date;
For who could bear to hear the glasses ring
In concert clear--the chairman's ready toast--
The pops of out-drawn corks--the "hip hurrah!"
The eloquence of claret--and the songs,
Which often through the noisy revel break,
When a man--might his quietus make
With a full bottle? Who would sober be,
Or sip weak coffee through the live-long night;
But that the dread of being laid upon
That stretcher by policemen borne, on w