y tortuous ways
With Freedom in the van,
And patriotism sets ablaze
The face of every man.

And so on. Then we come from the general to the particular, and follow
the fortunes of a single consignment of arms until it reaches its
destination.

And into cellar, pantry, shed,
In kitchen, bedroom, loft,
The rifles go. Home Rule is dead!
The words are uttered oft.

The ammunition, too, is hid
In many a secret hole,
Each bearer doing as he's bid,
Intent upon the goal.

The goal being, I take it, the final death of Home Rule. And now comes
the wonderful peroration, in which the whole great adventure is brought
to its dignified and eloquent climax. It runs into twenty-three stanzas,
of which I will give you the last two without comment--

Freedom is what we labour for,
Freedom, it is our right;
We have no wish for bloody war,
But, if we must, we'll fight.

This is our message sent to him,
The dark Dictator's tool--
Whatever happens, sink or swim,
We Will Not Have Home Rule!

There, Charles! I challenge you to produce anything approaching that
from all your boasted London dailies.

Yours,

Robert.

* * * * *

"A villager will always tell the difference between a good coin
and a bad one, but he cannot tell the difference between a bad
coin and a good one."--_Pioneer._

He must try to enlarge his mind.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Perspiring Sportsman (who has been riding in
fourteen-stone point-to-point race)._ "Well, thank goodness that's the
last of the season!"

_Friend_. "Thought you liked it."

_Perspiring Sportsman_. "Yes, if it weren't for the wasting you've got
to do to ride the weight?"]

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)

Doubtless you will think, as I did at first, that the title of _The
Priceless Thing_ (Stanley Paul) has reference to love or something
intense like that. Far from it. Not in fifty guesses would you be likely
to discover that its real meaning is an autograph of the late William
Shakspeare. One knew already that Mrs. Maud Stepney Rawson could write a
vigorous and bustling tale. If I have a complaint to make against _The
Priceless Thing_ it is indeed that it suffers from some superfluity of
plot, and what approaches a plethora of villains, real or supposed. For
this re