came down on your Parnellite allies, eh?
Perhaps, as we're getting to some nasty places, we might be tied
together now.

_Mr. Gladstone (warmly)._ Quite so. A union of hearts, in fact.

[_After a few hours' more climbing, they reach the summit of the
Matterhorn._

_Prof. Tyndall._ Sorry to leave you, but you see I only promised to take
you up, not to see you safe down again. Ta, ta! I may as well mention
that I consider you a "ubiquitous blast-furn----"

[_Disappears suddenly over the edge._

_Mr. Gladstone._ Dear me! what dreadful language! And he appears to have
cut the rope! He must be a Separatist, after all! If it were PITT, now,
I should call his conduct rather "base and blackguardly." Perhaps I
shall meet the "Professor at the Tea-Table"--at Zermatt!

[_Descends cautiously._

* * * * *

THE BURGLAR'S BACK.[1]

"Lord ESHER is greatly concerned about the probable condition of a
burglar's back after a couple of floggings."--_Times._

AIR--"_Those Evening Bells._"

The burglar's back, the burglar's back!
'Twill soon be rash a crib to crack.
BILL SIKES will sigh for happier times,
When "cats" were not the meed of crimes.

The burglar's back! Lord ESHER pales
When thinking of its crimson wales.
His feelings will not stand the strain,
Of dwelling on the ruffian's pain.

The brute may "bash," the scoundrel shoot,
Hack with his knife, "purr" with his boot;
But though he "bash," or "purr," or hack,
You must not touch the burglar's back.

No, let the brutal burglar burgle;
Whilst sentiment will calmly gurgle
Bland platitudes, but not attack
That sacred thing, the burglar's back!

[Footnote: 1 "_The Burglar's Back_"--Is he? then the sooner he's caught
and sent to penal servitude the better.--ED.]

* * * * *

"MAY FARE WORSE!"

_Or, The Difference between Goode and Baird._

What a sweet little supper!--two fire-eating "pros.,"
And a person "of no occupation,"
Who got both his eyes blacked and was cut on the nose,
Though "there wasn't the least provocation."
And they cursed and they throttled, they gouged, and they swore,
And they battered and bled, and they tumbled and tore,
And they fetched the police, and they rolled down the stair,
Did these blue-blooded dwellers in merry Mayfair.

[Illustration: Chancery Practice.]

Mr. ARTHUR COCKBURN will probably not want to see Mr.