a cab is infinitely rich: so that when a
man does not offer us much more than we are entitled to, we are
accustomed to ask him ironically whether he calls himself a gentleman.
Hence it is that we dance, with menacing gestures, around those who
resist our endeavours to cheat them; collect mobs about them; and pursue
them with execrations as far as we dare. A stop will be put to this
state of things by the strict and uniform enforcement of the much-needed
Act which has been passed for the abatement of our knavery and the
prevention of our insolence; I will add, on the whole, for our good: at
least for the good of one member of our body, who is also a Member of
the Royal College of Surgeons, and Licentiate of the Apothecaries
Company, albeit now necessitated to cry

"HERE YOU ARE, SIR!"

"_The Stand, July, 1853._"

* * * * *

NOTICE.--Unless all the Jokes, which have been sent in about JULLIEN
"cutting his _baton_," are immediately removed from the _Punch_ Office,
they will be sold as waste paper, and the proceeds devoted to the
benefit of the "ASYLUM FOR IDIOTS."

* * * * *

[Illustration: AFFECTING IGNORANCE.

Cabman. "_I beg your pardon, Sir, but is my Fare really a Sixpence?_"]

* * * * *

OUR HONEYMOON.

SUNDAY, MAY 26, 18--.

"My dear," said FRED, this morning--"I--I don't think I can go to
church. But, of course, _you_ can go, I don't feel like myself this
morning."

"I don't wonder at that, love. Indeed, you don't look yourself. But I
expected as much."--

"_You_, LOTTY!" and FRED opened his eyes.

"Why, I knew what would come of it. Here were you out till twelve
o'clock"--

"It wanted a quarter," said FRED, as if a quarter could make any
difference.

"Twelve o'clock," said I firmly, "allowing for watches, before you came
home."

"I told you--I was out talking with TOM," and FRED tapped the table.

"Well, if I must say what I think, FRED; I don't like MR. TRUEPENNY.
_I--do--not--like--him._"

"I don't wish you to like him, my dear. You're to like and love me; and
to love one man industriously and conscientiously is as much as any
woman can be expected to do. More no reasonable husband can ask of her."

But this I wouldn't seem to listen to. "Twelve o'clock," I repeated.
"Well, what you could find to talk about all that time--and I sitting
here at the window alone"--

"You might have gone to be