but I deny
that it is cheerful. I bid it adoo without a pang.

I was droven to my hotel by the most melancholly driver of a
four-wheeler that I ever saw. He heaved a deep sigh as I gave him two
shillings.

"I'll give you six d.'s more," I said, "if it hurts you so."

"It isn't that," he said, with a hart-rendin groan, "it's only a way I
have. My mind's upset to-day. I at one time tho't I'd drive you into the
Thames. I've been readin all the daily papers to try and understand
about Governor Eyre, and my mind is totterin. It's really wonderful I
didn't drive you into the Thames."

I asked the onhappy man what his number was, so I could redily find him
in case I should want him agin, and bad him good-bye. And then I tho't
what a frollicsome day I'd made of it. Respectably, etc.,

ARTEMUS WARD.

--_Punch_,1866.

SCIENCE AND NATURAL HISTORY.

Mr. Punch _My Dear Sir_:--I was a little disapinted at not receivin a
invitation to jine in the meetins of the Social Science Congress....

I prepared an Essy on Animals to read before the Social Science meetins.
It is a subjeck I may troothfully say I have successfully wrastled with.
I tackled it when only nineteen years old. At that tender age I writ a
Essy for a lit'ry Institoot entitled, "Is Cats to be trusted?" Of the
merits of that Essy it doesn't becum me to speak, but I may be excoos'd
for mentionin that the Institoot parsed a resolution that "whether we
look upon the length of this Essy, or the manner in which it is written,
we feel that we will not express any opinion of it, and we hope it will
be read in other towns."

Of course the Essy I writ for the Social Science Society is a more
finisheder production than the one on Cats, which was wroten when my
mind was crood, and afore I had masterd a graceful and ellygant stile
of composition. I could not even punctooate my sentences proper at that
time, and I observe with pane, on lookin over this effort of my youth,
that its beauty is in one or two instances mar'd by ingrammaticisms.
This was inexcusable, and I'm surprised I did it. A writer who can't
write in a grammerly manner better shut up shop.

You shall hear this Essy on Animals. Some day when you have four hours
to spare, I'll read it to you. I think you'll enjoy it. Or, what will be
much better, if I may suggest--omit all picturs in next week's _Punch_,
and do not let your contributors write eny thing whatever (et them have
a holiday; they can go to the B