ot_?"
Mr. EGERTON WARBURTON's gone,
No longer the Highwayman robs;
And silence now settles upon
The Last of the Guards--MOSES NOBBS!

Yet oblivion shall not descend
On that name till a stave hath been sung.
The Muse is antiquity's friend,
And in praise of the past will give tongue.
If CRACKNALL, the Tantivy Whip,
Claimed song, they're but _parvenu_ snobs
Who say that the lyre should let slip
The memory of stout MOSES NOBBS.

The Mail-Coach, my NOBBS, is no more
What it was when you put on the man;
We've Mail Trains, all rattle and roar,
And that portent, the Packet Post Van.
A Pullman, and not the Box-seat,
Is the aim of our modern Lord BOBS;
But the old recollections are sweet;
And _Punch_ drinks to your health, MOSES NOBBS!

[Footnote 1: The _Telegraph_ gives the gentleman's name both as
"NOBBS" and "NOGGS." As "NOBBS" comes first, _Mr. Punch_ adopts it, he
hopes without misnaming the illustrious veteran.]

* * * * *

[Illustration: KIND INQUIRIES.

_The Dean's Wife._ "IS THE DEAR BISHOP STILL LIVING?"

_Episcopal Butler._ "OH YES, MA'AM. HE'S _BETTER_ TO-DAY! WE'RE ALL
SAYING HE'S GOING TO DISAPPOINT 'EM _YET_!"]

* * * * *

CONFESSIONS OF A DUFFER.

IV.--THE DUFFER AS COLLECTOR.

I may be a Duffer, but I hope I am neither an idiot nor a cad. I have
never collected postage-stamps, nor outraged common humanity by asking
people to send me their autographs. With these exceptions I have
failed as a collector of almost everything. To succeed you need luck,
and a dash of unscrupulousness, and careful attention to details,
and a sceptical habit of mind. Even as a small boy I used to waste my
shillings at a funny little curiosity-shop, kept by a nice old lady
who knew no more about her wares than I did. Here I acquired quite
a series of old coppers, which Mrs. SOMERVILLE said were ancient
Bactrian. We asked where Bactria was, and she replied that it was a
"country beyond Cyrus." We answered that Cyrus was not a territorial
but a personal name, "A fellow, don't you know, not a place," but
the old lady's information stopped there. I wonder where my Bactrian
Collection is now. Certainly I never sold it; indeed, I never sold
anything; not only because nobody would buy, but because, after
all, one is a Collector, not a tradesman. Birds' eggs I would have
collected if I could, but you had