foul, when the reeds are sere, when all the flowers have
gone and the carrion-crow from the vantage of a pollard utters harsh
notes of warning to all the corvine company round about....

Shod with Corkolio the happy gardener can defy these sinister
visitants and ply the task of "heeling over" broccoli towards the
north with perfect impunity.

The ravages of stag-beetles, a notable feature of late seasons, and
probably one of the indirect but none the less disastrous results of
the Land Valuation policy of the PRIME MINISTER, can be kept down by
leaving bowls of caviare mixed with molasses in the places which they
most frequent. This compound reduces them speedily to a comatose
condition, in which they can be safely exterminated with the aid of
the patent hot-air pistolette (price five guineas) recently invented
by a director of one of the journals already alluded to.

But _tout lasse, tout casse, tout passe_; and while the kingfisher
turns his sapphire back in the sun against the lemon-yellow of the
willow leaves, and the smouldering russet of the oak-crowns succeeds
to the crimson of the beeches and the gold of the elms, we shall do
well to emulate the serene magnanimity of Nature and console ourselves
with the reflection that the rural philosopher, if only assured of
a sympathetic hearing in an enlightened Press and provided with a
suitable equipment by the ingenuity of its directors, may contemplate
the vagaries of tyrannical misgovernment with fortitude and even
felicity.

* * * * *

A SARTORIAL TRAGEDY.

["To be fashionable one must have the waist so narrow that there
is a strain upon the second button when the jacket is fastened."

_Note on Men's Dress._]

Garbed in the very height and pink of fashion,
To-day I sallied forth to greet my fair,
Nursing within my ardent heart a passion
I long had had a craving to declare;
Being convinced that never would there fall so
Goodly a chance again, I mused how she
Was good and kind and beautiful, and also
Expecting me to tea.

And after tea I stood before her, feeling
Now was the moment when the maid would melt,
My buttoned jacket helpfully revealing
The graces of a figure trimly svelte,
But, all unworthy to adorn a poet
Who'd bought it for a fabulous amount,
Just as I knelt to put the question, lo, it
Popped on its own account.

The button, dodging my attemp