it is strong.

[Illustration]

At Hawarden lived a Grand Old Man,
Of whom the world might say,
A wondrous lengthy race he ran,
And won it all the way.

[Illustration]

Some swore he'd veer to catch a vote;
Old age to flout one loathes,
But, if he never turned his coat,
He often changed his clothes.

[Illustration]

Hard by an Irish dog was found,
As many dogs there be,
Hibernian mongrel, puppy, hound,
And curs of low degree.

This dog and man at first seemed friends,
But, when a pique began,
The dog, to gain his private ends,
Went mad, and bit the man!

[Illustration]

To see so strange and sad a sight
Quidnuncs and _gobemouches_ ran,
And swore the dog was rabid quite
To bite that Grand Old Man.

[Illustration]

The wound indeed seemed sore and sad
To every party eye,
And while they swore the dog was mad,
They swore the man must die.

[Illustration]

But marvels sometimes come to light
Rash prophets to belie.
The man seems healing of the bite,
The dog looks like to die!

* * * * *

Remarkable Conversion.

"CANON TEIGNMOUTH SHORE proposes to convert the two Convocations." ...
that is startling without the context--"into one National Synod." But
two into one won't go. How will he manage it? Will those in the York
ship join the Canterbury, or _vice versa_? Or, quitting both ships,
will they land on common ground? "Who's for SHORE?"

* * * * *

PAR ABOUT PICTURES.--"_Over the Garden Wall_," seems to be the song
that Mr. G.S. ELGOOD sings at the Fine Art Society's Gallery. In the
course of his travels he has been over a good many garden walls.
At Wroxton, Compton Wynyates, Penshurst, Montacute, Berkeley, and
Helmingham, he has pursued his studies to some purpose; the result
is an enjoyable collection of pictures, which he entitles, "A Summer
among the Flowers."

* * * * *

BRUSTLES' BISHOP.

(_BY A MUDDLED MORALIST._)

CHAPTER I.

BEN BRUSTLES was only a poor shoeblack-boy who cleaned boots--ay, and
even shoes, for his daily bread. Such time as he could spare from his
avocation he devoted to diligent study of the doctrine of chance, as
exemplified in the practice of pitch-and-toss. Often and often, after
pitching and tossing in the cold wet streets for long weary hours,
he would return home with