comride 'ARRY's heyes, as he strightened
'imself in the dock, and gave the milingtery sloot, and then, in a
voice as sounded as true and sweet and clear as a bell, he sez--

_A Dingy and Unprepossessing Preacher_ (_unctuously_). Well beloved
friends, as I was telling yer, I went 'ome to the 'ouse of that pious
Methodist lady, and she told me as 'ow she 'ad two dear unconverted
sons, an' I knelt down (_&c., &c._), an' after that we 'ad our tea,
and then I preached a sermon--ah, I well remember I took my tex from
(_&c. &c._)--an' then she gave me supper (_more unctuously still_), as
nice a bit o' cold beef and 'ome-brewed ale as ever I wish to taste,
and I slep' that blessed night in a warm comfortable bed--and this
(_drawing the inevitable moral_) this brings me round to what I
started on, inasmuch as it proves (_with a forbidding smile_) as 'ow
yer may sometimes hentertain a angel unawares!

_Reciter Number Two_ (_giving his own private version of "The Ticket
of Leave Man."_) Fourpence 'ap'ny, Gentlemen, is _not_ a very 'arty
nor corjial recognition of my talent; _'owever_, I will now perceed
with the Drarmer. The Curtain rises upon the Second Hact. Hover three
years 'ave elapsed since _Robert Brierley_--(&c.) We are in _May
Hedwardses_ lodgings. She is torkin to 'er goldfinch. If you boys
don't give over larkin' and stand back, you'll get a cuff on some
of your 'eds. "Goldie," she sez, "I've 'ad a letter from _'Im_ this
morning!" And the bird puts his little 'ed a one side, and a'most
seems as if he compre'ended 'er meanin'! _Mrs. Willoughby_ is 'eard
outside sayin', "May I come in?" I will now hendeavour to give you a
imitation of _Mrs. Willoughby_.

[_He cocks his hat rather more on one side, to indicate
feminine garrulity, and continues._

_Anti-Parnellite Irishman_ (_warmly_). Is it kape to the point? Oi
till that white-feeced an' black-hearrted loiar, TIM MURPHY, that if
he interrups me wance more whoile o'im in possession o' the chair,
oi'll step down an' call 'm to orrder by landin' 'um a clump on the
conk!

_Reciter Number Three_ (_who is working his way through a
bloodcurdling poem, with a hat on the ground before him_):--

And on came them maddened 'orses, with their foiery, smokin' breath;
As were bearin' the woman I lurved to a crule and 'orrible death!
[_Pathetically._
'Ow could I save my darlin' from layin' a mangled 'eap
On the grorss below where the buttercups blow, along o