To Church Mice thou art most dear,
But _do_ please, but _do_ please
Let _us_ also share thy cheer:
For though our "freedom" gladsome seems,
Too oft it brings poor fare alone;
But aided by what haunts our dreams,
How many joys Church Mice have known!
Lovely Cheese! Lovely Cheese!
Long we've yearned to draw more near
To the ease, toothsome ease,
Of the dwellers in thy sphere!

Lovely cheese! Lovely cheese!
When a mouse thy cover nears,
Growling fit his heart to freeze,
Some keen-claw'd (Church) cat appears.
But now--that knife portends a boon;
Monopoly slice by slice 'twill slay.
We, too, may get--let it be soon!--
Our bit of cheese, some day, some day!
Lovely Cheese! Lovely Cheese!
When that cover's lifted clear,
With what ease, with what ease
We poor mice may share Church cheer!

* * * * *

There was a feeling of uncertainty in the House of Commons last Wednesday,
as to what should be taken to constitute "A Religious Body." Not to go
harking back to the Rev. SYDNEY SMITH'S definition of "a
Corporation"--which, without speaking it profanely, cannot be here quoted
without offending eyes polite,--one may say that "A Religious Body" is a
contradiction in terms. It is simply "A Soul-less Thing."

* * * * *

"What's the name of that German Beer?" asked Mrs. R., "I rather think it is
Pil-sen-ner. It sounds to me more like medicine."

* * * * *

THE MAN FROM BLANKLEYS.

A STORY IN SCENES.

SCENE XI.--_The Drawing-room._ Mrs. GILWATTLE _is still unable to
express her feelings by more than a contemptuous glare._

_Uncle Gabriel._ My--ah--love, you didn't hear me. I was saying I've almost
prevailed on his Lordship----

_Mrs. Gilwattle_ (_becoming articulate_). His Lordship, indeed! If _that's_
a Lord, I don't wonder you're such a Radical!

_Uncle Gab._ Why--why--what's _come_ to you, JOANNA? My Lord, I hope you'll
excuse her--she's a little----

_Mrs. Gil._ Fiddlesticks! You've been made a fool of, GABRIEL! Can't you
see for yourself that he's neither the manners nor yet the appearance of a
_real_ nobleman--or anything but what he _is_?

_Uncle Gab._ (_dropping_ Lord S.'s _arm_). Eh? If you're not a Lord, Sir,
what else _are_ you?

_Lord Strath._ (_wavering between wrath and amusement_). Afraid I can't
enl