doing for them.  How will they blush for their ingratitude when they find that the following great measures have been triumphantly carried through Parliament by Sir Robert’s exertions—­The VENTILATING OF THE HOUSE BILL!  Think of that, ye thin-gutted weavers of Manchester.  Drop down on your marrow-bones, and bless the man who gives your representatives fresh air—­though he denies you—­a mouthful of coarse food.  Then look at his next immense boon—­The ROYAL KITCHEN-GARDEN BILL!  What matters it that the gaunt fiend Famine sits at your board, when you can console yourselves with the reflection that cucumbers and asparagus will be abundant in the Royal Kitchen Garden!  But Sir Robert does not stop here.  What follows next?—­The FOREIGN BISHOPS’ BILL!  See how our spiritual wants are cared for by your tender-hearted Tories—­they shudder at the thoughts of Englishmen being fed on foreign corn; but they give them instead, a full supply of Foreign Bishops.  After that comes—­The REPORT OF THE LUNATICS’ BILL.  This important document has been founded on the proceedings in the Upper House, and is likely to be of vast service to the nation at large.  Next follows the EXPIRING LAWS’ BILL!  We imagine that a slight error has been made in the title of this bill, and that it should be read “Expiring Justice Bill!” As to expiring laws—­’tis all a fallacy.  One of the glorious privileges of the English Constitution is, that the laws never expire—­neither do the lawyers—­they are everlasting.  Justice may die in this happy land, but law—­never!

Again, there is a little grant of some thousands for Prince Albert’s stables and dog-kennels!  Very proper too; these animals must be lodged, ay, and fed; and the people—­the creatures whom God made after his own image—­the poor wretches who want nothing but a little bread, will lie down hungry and thankful, when they reflect that the royal dogs and horses are in the best possible condition.  But we have not yet mentioned the great crowning work of Ministers—­the Queen’s speech on the Prorogation of the Parliament last week.  What an admirable illustration it was of that profound logical deduction—­that, out of nothing comes nothing!  Yet it was deduction—­that, out of nothing comes nothing!  Yet it was not altogether without design, and though some sneering critics have called the old song—­the burthen of it was clearly—­

[Illustration:  DOWN WITH YOUR DUST.]

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SO MUCH FOR BUCKINGHAM!

MR. SILK BUCKINGHAM being unmercifully reproached by his unhappy publisher upon the dreadful weight of his recent work on America, fortunately espied the youngest son of the enraged and disappointed vendor of volumes actually flying a kite formed of a portion of the first volume.  “Heavy,” retorted Silk, “nonsense, sir.  Look there! so volatile and exciting is that masterly production, that it has even made that youthful scion of an obdurate line, spite my teetotal feelings,