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NEW DEFINITION OF A “FEATHER-BED FIGHTER.”—­A Boxer with gloves over four ounces in weight.  And anything over that, we suppose, must be considered a “feather-weight.”  This gives a new significance to the saying, “You might have knocked me down with a feather.”

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[Illustration:  OUR M.P.  MAKES A LITTLE TOUR IN IRELAND.]

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[Illustration:  MR. TYMS HIRED A MOUNT WITH THE STAGHOUNDS, BUT QUICKLY CAME TO THE CONCLUSION THAT IT WAS A BRUTAL SHAME TO CHASE THE POOR DEER UP AND DOWN THOSE HORRIBLE BANKS.]

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A TALE OF THE TELEPHONE.

(A STORY OF WHAT MAY HAPPEN SOME DAY IN GEORGE STREET, HANOVER SQUARE.)

There were a few minutes unoccupied before the time appointed for the ceremony, and so the Pew-opener thought he could not do better than point out the many excellences of the church to the Bridegroom.

“You see, Sir,” he said, “our pulpit is occupied by the best possible talent.  The Vicar takes the greatest interest in securing every rising preacher, and thus, Sunday after Sunday, we have the most startling orations.”

The Bridegroom (slightly bored) said that if he had happened to live in the neighbourhood, he should certainly have taken sittings.

“But living in the neighbourhood is not necessary, Sir,” persisted the Pew-opener.  “Let into the sounding-board is a telephone, and so our Vicar can supply the sermons preached here, hot and hot, to residents in the London Postal District.  Considering the quality of the discourses, he charges a very low rate.  The system has been largely adopted.  As a matter of fact the whole service, and not only the pulpit, has been laid on to the principal Hotels and Clubs.”

But further conversation was here cut short by the arrival of the Bride, who, led by her brother, advanced towards the altar with an air of confidence that charmed all beholders.  This self-possession was the outcome of the lady being—­as her grey moire-antique indicated—­a widow.  Congratulations passed round amongst the friends and relatives, and then the bridal party was arranged in front of the good old Vicar.

“Have you switched us on?” said he to the Clerk.

“Yes, Sir,” was the reply.  “We are now in communication with all the principal Hotels and Clubs.”

“That’s right.  I am always anxious that my clients shall have their full money’s-worth.”  And then the Vicar read with much emphasis the exhortation to the public to declare any “just cause or impediment” to the marriage.  Naturally there was no response, and an opening hymn was sung by the choir, which, containing some half-dozen verses, lasted quite a quarter of an hour.  At its conclusion the Vicar, who had allowed his attention to become distracted, instead of going on with the service, again read the exhortation.  He once more gave the names of “HARRY SMITH, bachelor,” and “AMY JONES, widow.”