A is the Ache which the Drivers delay. 
  B is the Bus, which they’re chained to all day. 
  C ’s the poor Cad who is sick of his trade. 
  D is the Dividend that must be paid. 
  E ’s the day’s End, which finds him dead-beat. 
  F is the Food he has no time to eat. 
  G is his Good, for which nobody cares. 
  H is the Horse who so much better fares. 
  I ’s the Increase in his pay that he waits,
  J ’s the fine Jump he’ll soon take with his mates. 
  K is the Knife-board, which funds should provide. 
  L are the Ladies, who now go outside. 
  M is the Money that’s earned every day. 
  N the New lines, that they start, and make pay. 
  O Opposition, they speedily chase. 
  P is the Public that fills every place. 
  Q is the Question, that hints at Reform. 
  R the Reply, that soon raises a storm. 
  S the Shareholder, blind in his greed. 
  T is the Tension which he’d better heed. 
  U ’s the Upset he won’t certainly like. 
  V ’s the Vigorous Vengeance of strike. 
  W Wisdom that comes somewhat late. 
  X Express Action which may avert Fate! 
  Y, Yell triumphal, the men win the day. 
  Z—­“Zounds!” which is all Directors can say.

* * * * *

BENDIGO.

    [A Monument to BENDIGO, the famous prize-fighter, has been
    lately erected at Nottingham.]

Old Prize-fighter soliloquises:—­

  If ever to the “Pelican” alone or with a friend I go,
  I sigh for men of muscle who could fight a fight like BENDIGO. 
  He didn’t fight in feather-beds, or spend his days in chattering,
  But faced his man, and battered him, or took his foeman’s battering. 
  He didn’t deal in gas, or waste his time in mere retort at all;
  But now the “pugs” are interviewed, and journalists report it all. 
  A man may call it what he will, brutality or bravery,
  I’d rather have the prize-ring back than give a purse to knavery. 
  Knaves fight for points, the audience shouts and wrangles in allotting ’em;
  I hate their fancy-work, I’m off to take the train to Nottingham. 
  I like a Man; though modern men and modern manners mend, I go
  To drop a last regretful tear o’er poor departed BENDIGO.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  GENTLE SARCASM.

“YESSIR; I GITS ‘OME FROM MY LAST JOURNEY AT MIDNIGHT,—­AN’ THEN I ’AS THE REST OF THE HEVENIN’ TO MYSELF!”]

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

House of Commons, Monday, June 1.—­House of Commons, as usual at this time of Session, driven against wall in its struggles with appointed work.  With brief recesses, been at work since November last.  One thing everyone insists on is that Prorogation shall take place at end of July.  Difficult to see how even by most masterly management that can be accomplished.  Apart from Education Bill, enough work in hand, if Supply be fairly dealt with, to carry us on to last week in July.  Every moment precious; every quarter of an hour lost an irretrievable misfortune.