ch he asks_, "_Are you there?_" _at
intervals._

_Fourth Voice_. What is it?

_Imp. Sub._ Are you Arctic Wine Company?

_Fourth Voice_. Yes, all right! What is it?

_Imp. Sub._ (_joyfully_). Have you sent a case of champagne to
BUMBLETON?

_Fourth Voice_. What? I can't hear you.

_First Voice_. (_interposing_). Have you finished?

_Imp. Sub._ No, we are still speaking. Have you sent a case of
champagne to BUMBLETON?

_Fourth Voice_. We can't hear you. Send a messenger.

_First Voice_. Have you finished?

_Imp. Sub._ (_shouting_). Yes! (_Is cut off._) Shorter to have done so
at once!

[_Uses intemperate language, and hurries off to get a
Messenger. Curtain._

* * * * *

THE CHURLISH CABMAN.

AIR--"_BALLYHOOLEY_."

[Illustration]

The Cabman's thrifty fares,
Who would seek suburban airs,
Desire, of course, a more extended "radius;"
But, Cabby, it is clear,
Thinks quite otherwise. I fear
The controversy's growing rather "taydious."
Whether by night or day,
A fair fare the fare should pay,
And Cabby should not overcharge unduly;
But _this_ is what riles _me_,
When churl Cabby _will_ not see
A would-be fare, but just ignores him coolly.

_Chorus_.

"_Hi! hi! Cab! Hi_!" Oh, no!
On the sullen brute will go;
When he _wants_ a fare, he's clamorous and unruly;
But if he wants a _drink_,
With a sneer or with a wink,
He'll rumble on and just ignore you coolly.

* * * * *

[Illustration: DESTROYING THE MONEY-LENDER'S WEB; OR, THE THIRTEENTH
LABOUR OF HERSCHELLES.]

* * * * *

[Illustration: RATHER SMART ALL ROUND.

_Lady Di._ (_who has been trying a Horse with a view to purchase_).
"AND DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT HE'S QUITE UP TO MY WEIGHT, MR. SPAVIN?"

_Spavin._ "LOR! MY LADY, HE'D CARRY TWO OF YOU!"

_Lady Di._ "WHAT? DO YOU MEAN TO SAY THAT I'M ONLY HALF A HORSEWOMAN?"

_Spavin._ "BY NO MEANS, MY LADY. BUT ANOTHER LIKE YOUR LADYSHIP WOULD
LOOK SO WELL ON THE OTHER SIDE!"]

* * * * *

HOW TO REPORT THE PRACTICE OF THE CREWS.

(_NEWEST STYLE._)

Scarcely had the tintinabulum fixed on the altitude of the clock tower
of the ecclesiastical building known to fame and rowing men as Putney
Church sounded out the merry chimes of eleven in the forenoon, when
the wielders of the sky-blue (or dark-blue) blades were