he do it, I wonder? I don't mind admitting it's grand.
But--wot price our Party, my ARTHUR? He's scoring two points to our one;
And I don't see the fun of it, ARTHUR, I certinly _don't_ see the fun.

Mustn't take it to heart overmuch, 'ARTY! 'Taint as I wants for to scold;
But--you play him too light--_entry noo_! 'Taint acos you are young, and
he's old.
As you need be so precious "punctilious." Delicate 'andling of _him_
Won't pay; it's misplaced altogether. Go at him, lad! Lam the old limb!
His bellows can't be as they used to wos. Youth will be served--that's
your chance;
But, if you play light with Old Shifty, he'll lead you no end of a dance.
Think of BENJY, dear boy, my old champion, bless his black curls! _He_
wired in,
Never thinking of manners or taste, wich is muck when you're fighting to
win.
Look at GRANDOLPH, the Marlborough Midget, as often reminds me of BEN!
There--there! Don't turn touchy, and tiff; we all need a straight tip now
and then.
You can do him, next round, I've no doubt, if you'll only fight up to
your form.
Pull yourself well together, 'it 'ard, bustle up the old boy, make it
warm!--
Remember wot JOHNNY BROOME'S mother once wrote to her boy--mark, and
mind!--
"Be sure you make use of your left; keep away from your man till you find
You can reach him in safety, and _then_--give him pepper. Avoid being
thrown.
But give 'im all the bursters you can!" Wich that Ammyzon, who is beknown
To the fistical world, gave her son--as you're mine--werry proper advice.
When time's called, my ARTHUR, wire in; and wotever you do, _don't be
nice_!
No "overstrained courtesy" _this_ time! It's blessed nigh bunnicked your
chance.
Let me fan you, dear boy, let me fan you! And when it is time to hadvance
Go at 'im for all you are wuth! Bless yer, him and his low Irish lot
Won't be in it with GENTLEMAN ARTHUR--_if only you'll give it him hot_!

[_Left fanning and fuming._

* * * * *

SHAKSPEARII JUNIORES.--Sir AUGUSTUS HARRIS'S and PETTITT'S _Prodigal
Daughter_ is going all over the shop. She is coming out in France, in
Germany, also, of course, in the Horse-tryin' capital, and will appear, as
a matter-of-Corso, in Rome. This for the original English authors is a
dramatic triumph which for the universality of their w