Now England and France can thus gossip together,
    And CARNOT and SALISBURY thus hob-a-nob,
  We’ll hope for set-fair international weather. 
    Our RAIKES and their ROCHE appear well “on the job.” 
  The Telephone’s triumph at least is not sinister. 
    Things should go easier somehow—­with care,
  When patriot Minister greets patriot Minister,
                “Hallo!—­are you there?”

* * * * *

ANOTHER TELEPHONIC SUGGESTION.—­Connect the Theatres and Opera Houses by Telephone with all the Clubs.  On payment of a fixed charge, any member should be able to hear just as much of the piece or Opera as he might require.  Something above the price of a Stall to be the maximum charge for one person to hear entire Opera.  For half the Opera, say six shillings; for a quarter of it, three-and-six.  For hearing one song in it, eighteen-pence; and, if certain songs be in great demand, the prices could be raised.

* * * * *

EPIGRAMMATIC DEFINITION OF MOST PUBLIC BANQUETS WITH POSTPRANDIAL ORATORY.—­“Stuff and Nonsense.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL.

LORD SALISBURY.  “HALLO!”

M. LE PRESIDENT.  “HALLO!”

LORD SALISBURY.  “YOU THERE?”

M. LE PRESIDENT.  “ALL THERE!”

LORD SALISBURY.  “CAN YOU SUGGEST AN ENTREE FOR DINNER?”

M. LE PRESIDENT. “HOMARD AU GRATIN,—­AND, BY THE WAY, HOW ABOUT
NEWFOUNDLAND AND LOBSTER QUESTION?”

LORD SALISBURY.  “NOT BY TELEPHONE, THANK YOU!!!”

[Telephone between London and Paris opened, Monday, March 23rd.]]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  SUFFERING ON THE “SILVER STREAK.”

THESE GENTLEMEN (AFTER A FEW HOURS’ REST) DECLARED UNANIMOUSLY IN
FAVOUR OF THE PROPOSED CHANNEL TUBULAR RAILWAY.]

* * * * *

HANDS AS THEY ARE SHOOK.

(NEW STYLE.)

  In healthier times, when friends would meet
  Their friends in chamber, park, or street,
  Each, as hereunder, each would greet.

  Tour level hand went forth; you clasped
  Your crony’s; each his comrade’s grasped—­
  If roughly, neither friend was rasped.

  Such was the good old-fashioned one
  Of honest British “How d’ye do?”
  I think it manly still—­don’t you?

  But now, when smug acquaintance hails
  A set that would be “smart,” but fails,
  Another principle prevails.

  The arm, in lifted curve displayed,
  Droops limply o’er the shoulder-blade,
  As needing some chirurgeon’s aid: 

  The wrist is wrenched of JONES and BROWN,
  Those ornaments of London Town;
  Their listless fingers dribble down: 

  BROWN reaches to the knuckle-bones
  Of thus-excruciated JONES;
  BROWN’s hand the same affliction owns.