st H. M._ Rummy idea, having cockleshells on the traces.

_Second H. M._ Oh, I don't know--one of the Hussar regiments has 'em.

_First H. M._ Ah, so they have. I suppose that's where he got the
idea.

[_They go out, feeling that the picture is satisfactorily
accounted for._

_The P. P. (before a small canvas)._ Yes, this is the right thing at
last. The paper doesn't seem to put it out in the least, and the sort
of subject, you know, that _no_ one can object to. I've quite fallen
in love with it. I don't care what it costs--I positively _must_ have
it. I'm sure the wife will be as fond of it as I am. I only hope it's
not sold--here, let's go and see.

[_They go._

AT THE SECRETARY'S TABLE.

_The P. P. (turning over the priced Catalogue)._ Ah, here it is!
It's unsold--it's marked down at--(_his face falls_)--eleven--eleven
--that's _rather_ over my limit. (_To his Friend._) Do you mind
waiting while I try the paper on it once more? (_His Friend consents;
the P. P. returning, after an interval_.) No, I had my doubts from
the beginning--it _won't_ do, after all!

_His Friend._ But I thought you said the paper didn't put it out?

_The P. P._ It doesn't--but the picture takes all the shine out of the
paper.

_His Friend._ I suppose you couldn't very well change the paper--eh?

_The P. P._ Change the paper?--when it's only been up a week, and cost
seven-and-six the piece! My _dear_ fellow, what are you talking about?
No, no--I must see if I can't get a picture to match it at MAPLE'S,
that's all.

_His Friend (vaguely)._ Yes, I suppose they understand all that sort
of thing there.

[_They go out, relieved at having arrived at a decision._

* * * * *

[Illustration: CARNIVOROUS.

(_On Hospitable Thoughts intent._)

"OH, THEY'RE TOO MANY TO HAVE TO EAT ALL TOGETHER, PAPA! LET'S KNOCK
OFF THE CHILDREN FOR TEA."

"YES; AND WE CAN DO WITH THE FATHER AND MOTHER FOR DINNER, YOU KNOW!"]

* * * * *

SHAKSPEARE ON ULSTER.

TO MR. PUNCH, SIRR,--You're a patriot, divil a less.

Is it fair, I ask you, Sirr, is it fair to quote the Universal Bard
against us Ulster, _et ne plus_ Ulster, Loyalists? Yet this is the
line which a man who used to call himself "a friend of mine" sends
me, and he puts a drawing with it, which I can't, and won't reproduce,
representing a moon up in the sky, labelled "Home Rule," and a pack
of wolves (a pack of idiot