to put the little stair
That hangs behind the stern out.

And, when at nights our prancing team
(I have before me now a scheme
To use auxiliary steam)
Desires to seek its stable,
Why, John--I have not mentioned John;
He is the man who sits upon
The front of the Pantechnicon--
Will take them off. And when they're gone,
And hush succeeds to Babel,

We'll rest within our home complete
Wherever seems to us most sweet,
And none shall say that such a street
Or such a square is pleasant,
But we shall answer straightway, "Yes,
We used to live at that address;
Quite jolly. But we liked it less.
Than opposite the Duke of S.
In Amaranthine Crescent."

But if in wandering to and fro
We chance to see--you never know--
One house that has "TO LET" to show
And find report has tricked us,
And there _are_ houses in the Town,
We'll simply dump our chattels down
And challenge Smith (of Smith and Brown)
Or any landlord, bar the Crown,
To blooming well evict us.

EVOE.

* * * * *

"A visit was paid to Exeter, yesterday afternoon, by
Lieut.-General Sir Henry Crichton Selater, G.C.B., K.C.B.,
C.B."--_Provincial Paper_.

More fortunate than the LORD CHANCELLOR, the gallant General seems to
have had three Baths allotted to him.

* * * * *

"The enemy is engaged vigorously in making his expected
protest against the Peace Terms.... To show the depth of
his emotion he has declared a week of mourning. Theatres
may remain open, but must stage plays appropriate to the
occasion."

It is rumoured that the first play chosen was _Measure for Measure_.

* * * * *

"The War Office says there is no authority whatever for the
statement that General Townshend would shortly be appointed
Commander-in-Chief in the Tower Hamlets, F.C."--_Star_.

Mr. Punch begs leave to say that this item of football news did not
appear in his columns.

* * * * *

PROCRASTINATION.

A few mornings ago I found among my letters a tragic document--a
bill. A first quick glance at it filled me with despair, because I was
luxuriating in that Fools' Paradise produced by the illusion that one
is all paid up. Of course one never is; there is always something that
one forgets, and this must have been it; so that, instead of