se you will use more than one horse?--Oh, certainly. No
cruelty. And I think I shall try the walk myself on foot, just to see
if a horse will be able to keep up with me.

And is there any other exploit that you contemplate?--I thought I
might perhaps dine with the new Lord Mayor.

What! dine with the new Lord Mayor! Why, you would never be able to
bear the strain; the great exertion!--I was half afraid you might say
this, so I have written and respectfully declined the invitation!

* * * * *

[Illustration: FELINE AMENITIES.

"HOW KIND OF YOU TO CALL--I'M SO SORRY TO HAVE KEPT YOU WAITING!"

"OH, DON'T MENTION IT--I'VE NOT BEEN AT ALL BORED! I'VE BEEN TRYING TO
IMAGINE WHAT I SHOULD DO TO MAKE THIS ROOM LOOK COMFORTABLE IF IT WERE
MINE!"]

* * * * *

"ICHABOD!"

GOG, _loquitur_:--

Here's a pretty fine business, my MAGOG!!! Where are we a-drifting
to now?
These here tears in my eyes you must twig; I detect the glum gloom
on your brow.
Most natural, MAGOG, _most_ natural! Loyal old giants, like us,
Must be cut to the heart by these times, which they get every year
wus and wus!
It's Ikybod, MAGOG; I see it a-written all over the shop.
Our glory's departed, old partner. And where is it going for to
stop?
That Feast of BELSHAZZER weren't in it for worritting warnings of
woe;
Which our beautiful Annual Banquet will soon not be worth half a
blow.
It's not half a blow-out as it is, not compared with old glorious
gorges.
I wish, oh I wish, MAGOG mine, we was back in the times of the
GEORGES,
Or even DICK WHITTINGTON's days, which for Giants was quite good
enough;
But they've spoilt all the good things of life with their Science,
and Progress, and stuff.
I see how it's drifting, dear MAGOG. The Munching House and the
Gildhall.
Did use to be London's fust pride. Is it so in these days? Not at
all!
Whippersnappers cock snooks at us, MAGOG; A ignerent pert L.C.C.,
To whom Calipash is a mistry, whose soul never loved Calipee,
A feller elected by groundlings, who can't tell Madeira from Port,
Some sour-faced suburban Dissenter--_he_, MAGOG, may make us his
sport,
Without being popped in the pillory! Proper old punishment that!
As all the _old_ punishments _was_. We're a-getting too fl