of answers himself, and put them in our letter-box a
half-an-hour before the first post arrived, so that nobody got prizes
but himself. He made a good deal of money, too, by pretending to tell
your fortune by the creases in your collar. All you had to do was to
send an old collar and fourteen penny stamps, and you would receive a
letter in reply similar to this:
"You are probably either a male or a female, and will no doubt live
till you die. You like to have your own way when you can get it, and
when you can't you get very cross and irritable. You are not so young
as you were a few years ago, and you dislike pain of any kind. You
will remain single until you marry, and whichever you do you will
probably wish you hadn't."
The greatest novelty, however, which the Doctor-in-Law introduced in
his new magazine was his system of telling your character by your
watch and chain. There was no fee charged, and all you had to do was
to send your watch and chain (gold preferred), and the Doctor-in-Law
would tell your character, quite correctly. It generally was as
follows:
"You are a silly donkey, for no one but a donkey would think of
sending his watch and chain to a stranger, and if you imagine that you
will ever see it again, you are greatly mistaken."
The Rhymester only had one poem in after all, as, when it came to the
point, the Doctor-in-Law charged him a guinea a verse for printing it,
and the poor Rhymester could not afford more than one poem at that
rate.
This is what he sent:
[Illustration]
THE NEW ROBIN.
The North wind doth blow,
And we ought to have snow,
If 'tis true what my nurse used to sing,
Poor thing.
Yet up in yon tree
Robin Redbreast I see
As happy and gay as a king,
Poor thing.
Look! as true as I live,
There's a boy with a sieve
And a stick and a long piece of string,
Poor thing.
But the bird doesn't care,
For I hear him declare,
"Pooh! the old dodge he tried in the Spring,
Poor thing."
"What ridiculous cheek,"
And he turns up his beak
Ere he tucks his head under his wing,
Poor thing.
[Illustration]
The poor Rhymester was very disappointed at not being able to publish
more of his poems, so the Doctor-in-Law, to console him, allowed him
to contribute an article on "Fashions for the Month by Our Paris
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