'tis for pigs to come to see my wife. Here they be. That's
Spion Kop, the big black one--called because 'tis the highest mountain in
America and he's to make the highest price. The pink one is Square Measure,
for he'll eat his own size in meal any day. That's Diadem--no, it's not;
Diadem lost--I should say Diadem's lost to us." Uncle Billy lifted his hat
reverently. "The ginger one is Comrade--a fine name."

"Why, 'tis a little sow."

"And what better comrade than a blessed female, my loving dear, and who'd
know that better than me?"

"Don't you go mixing me up with the pigs, Willum; I won't have it. What's
the name of that perky black one?"

"Mount Royal," said Uncle Billy. "I'm a KING'S man and like to respect they
set over me. Royal just means one of the KING'S family."

The parade was dismissed; the herd returned to its home and Uncle Billy
paid the cost of wear and tear.

He sat smoking that evening in a state of blissful content. All had gone
well; the dreaded black moment was over. Mrs. Pugsley knitted furiously in
silence.

"Now what might you be turning over in that mind of yours?" asked Uncle
Billy.

"Pigs."

"Couldn't do better."

"And their names. Maybe you won't christen any more until after the
Cesarewitch."

She folded up her knitting and went to bed, leaving Uncle Billy as if
turned to stone. When he recovered he sought out Uncle Eli and said:--

"Eli, she's known all along. She knowed when I was driving they brasted
pigs here in the heat. She's never been took in at all. And that's a woman.
That's what married me."

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Bridegroom_ (_twenty minutes late, excitedly, to Verger_).
"DON'T TELL ME THE THING'S OVER."]

* * * * *

"It would be wrong to enter upon political questions in these pages,
but there can be no harm in suggesting that prayer should be made as
much for our rulers at Westminster as for people in Ireland. The
Collect, with certain alterations, for Those at Sea would seem
especially suitable."--_Exeter Diocesan Gazette._

Very neatly and clerically put.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Smith_ (_member of bowling club_). "DO YOU KNOW THESE BALLS
COST FIVE GUINEAS EACH?"

_Jones_ (_golfer_). "BY JOVE! I HOPE YOU DON'T LOSE MANY IN THE 'ROUGH.'"]

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

(_By Mr. Punch's Staff o