scover, some fine day,
He'll diddle you at last!

* * * * *

QUEER QUERIES.--COMBUSTIBLES.--I have five hundred barrels of Kerosene
Oil, and three hundred of Paraffin, stored in a large room in the
basement of my premises. Upstairs, on the top floor, there are about
two hundred assistants at work. I now want to use part of the same
room for the manufacture of fireworks. The place I don't think is too
dark, as I have it constantly lighted by naked gas-jets. Would there
be any need to take out a licence? The surrounding property, although
very crowded, is only of a poor description.--INSURED.

* * * * *

MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN.

(_CONDENSED AND REVISED VERSION BY MR. P.'S OWN HARMLESS IBSENITE._)

NO. II.--NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE (ET DIKKISVOeIT).

ACT III.

_The same Room--except that the sofa has been slightly moved, and one
of the Japanese cotton-wool frogs has fallen into the fireplace.
Mrs. LINDEN sits and reads a book--but without understanding a single
line._

_Mrs. Linden_ (_laying down book, as a light tread is heard outside_).
Here he is at last! (_KROGSTAD comes in, and stands in the doorway._)
Mr. KROGSTAD, I have given you a secret _rendezvous_ in this room,
because it belongs to my employer, Mr. HELMER, who has lately
discharged you. The etiquette of Norway permits these slight freedoms
on the part of a female Cashier.

_Krogs._ It does. Are we alone? (_NORA is heard overhead dancing the
Tarantella._) Yes, I hear Mrs. HELMER's fairy footfall above. She
dances the Tarantella now--by-and-by she will dance to another tune!
(_Changing his tone._) I don't exactly know why you should wish to
have this interview--after jilting me as you did, long ago, though?

_Mrs. L._ Don't you? _I_ do. I am a widow--a Norwegian widow. And
it has occurred to me that there may be a nobler side to your nature
somewhere--though you have not precisely the best of reputations.

[Illustration: "Oh, you prillil squillikins!"]

_Krogs._ Right. I am a forger, and a money-lender; I am on the staff
of the Norwegian _Punch_--a most scurrilous paper. More, I have been
blackmailing Mrs. HELMER by trading on her fears like a low cowardly
cur. But, in spite of all that--(_clasping his hands_)--there are the
makings of a fine man about me _yet_, CHRISTINA!

_Mrs. L._ I believe you--at least, I'll chance it. I want some one to
care for, and I'll marry you.

_Kr