"Of--of course," said MR. TRUEPENNY; and then with the awkwardest bow in
the world, he left me and FRED together.

"We'd better go to bed," said FRED. "Isn't it late?"

"Very," said I; "and for my part I thought MR. TRUEPENNY was never
going."

I went into my room, and--there upon my table--was a slip of paper
written in JOSEPHINE'S hand, with these words:

"_If you really love master, you'll not let him get up to-morrow
morning!_"

And now all the horror was plain as light! "Get up!" I thought--and all
a woman's resolution came upon me--"only let me once get him well to
bed, and he _doesn't get up_." I listened for his footsteps. He came. I
met him with a smile; and _didn't I lock the door_?

* * * * *

MARKET AND TRADE REPORT.

[Illustration]

CITY.--The deportation of such large numbers of shirt hands, to which we
have before alluded, has caused an unparallelled rise in wages,
amounting, we are assured, in some cases, to as much as a farthing per
dozen on "gents' dress." It is rumoured that the "United Distressed
Needle-women" contemplate striking for a reduction of the hours of
labour. Twenty-one hours a day, with three intervals of two minutes each
for meals, except during the busy season which comprises only about
eleven months in the year, is spoken of as likely to be their
stipulation.

MANCHESTER.--Policemen are in rather better demand, at a slight advance
on former prices. Good stout articles are quoted at from 13_s._ to
17_s._ per week; sergeants 19_s._ to 21_s._; best blues, strong, full
length, 23_s._

* * * * *

CARVING HIS WAY TO INIQUITY.

A culinary wag (not SOYER) has inserted in his Cookery Book the
proclamation of EMPEROR NICHOLAS, in which he talks largely about the
"orthodox faith" and "the sword," and has labelled it: "DIRECTIONS FOR
CUTTING UP A TURKEY."

* * * * *

THE STAMP OF LIBERALITY AND MEANNESS.

The liberal man, when he is in doubt about the proper weight of a
letter, puts on two stamps: the mean man only puts on one.

* * * * *

SAPPHICS OF THE CABSTAND.

_Friend of Self-Government._

Seedy Cab-driver, whither art thou going!
Sad is thy fate--reduced to law and order,
Local self-government yielding to the gripe of
Centralisation.

Victim of FITZROY! little think the M.P.'s,
Lording it o'er