Liverpool
in 1884. It was then said that the new prelate was the first
Anglican Bishop to wear a beard for over 200 years."--_The Daily
Chronicle._

Dr. RUSSELL WAKEFIELD, of course, has not worn his moustache for a
quarter of that time.

* * * * *

From a Hong Kong tradesman's circular:--

"EGGS! FRESH EGGS! AND TASTEFUL EGGS! FOR SALE.

These eggs are exceedingly pure and fresh, and can be proved by
looking at or breaking them. The yelk when boiled--smell sweet,
the white--glistened, relished, and favourable to health as
well.

TRY our taseeful eggs as their quality bears.

COME! COME! COME! AND TRY TO HAVE SOME."

* * * * *

[Illustration: _First Winter Sport_ (_looking at a magnificent view of
the Alps_). "Not bad, that."

_Second Winter Sport._ "Yes, it's all right; but you needn't rave about
it like a bally poet."]

* * * * *

THE HEN.

To-day it is not mine to sing
A lay of love, a song of Spring;
I tackle no uplifting thing
Of arms and men;
My muse is otherwise beguiled
To gentler themes and measures mild;
I sing of nature's artless child,
The common hen.

Little she has of lyric stuff;
Her bows, I grant, are merely bluff,
Her sternmost pile of windy fluff
Would leave one cool;
Yet never since the world was planned
Was aught more lofty and more grand
Regarded as a mother--and
Such an old fool.

In laying eggs is all her joy;
Its rapture never seems to cloy;
She knows no worthier employ
In life than this,
So to collect a fertile batch
Still young, still fresh enough to hatch,
And thus, by sterling effort, snatch
A mother's bliss.

But, though the futile one will lay
(When she's in form) an egg per day,
She always gives the fact away
With loud acclaim
That all the novel truth may know;
Whereby the unsleeping human foe
Derives a tip on where to go
To get the same.

It does not make her senses reel,
This mystery, or dim her zeal,
Till by degrees she seems to feel
Her broken lot;
She roams aloof, she grows depressed;
And then, her broody sorrow guessed,
Men lure her to a well-filled nest
And bid her squat.

And now behold her, warm and wide,
Her rounded form well satisfied,
Though even in her highest pride
She h