Sm-th.  Hear the weir roaring, G-SCH-N?  We’re getting too near “Danger,” dear boy.  That’s right, you’ve got ground there.  Now, then hold her up! hold her up!

G-sch-n (a tip-toe, and at an angle).  Dash it, how she drags!  I was all but over!  Come up!  There, SM-TH, shove her up sharp, or I shall be off, or lose the pole!

Sm-th (shoving his hardest).  All right!  Shove it is!!  Hold on, G-SCH-N,—­I’m here!!!

Rude Boys (from the bank).  Yah—­Boo!  Better git out and walk, and let hus pole that punt for yer?

* * * * *

[Illustration:  ALL ADRIFT!

W.H.  SMITH.  “HOLD ON, GOSCHEN. I’M HERE!!”]

* * * * *

CHILD’S CHIT-CHAT.

(POSSIBLY WRITTEN FOR PROPOSED INSERTION IN CERTAIN OF MR. PUNCH’S FEMININE CONTEMPORARIES.)

Dearest LENA,—­We are now back from Herne Bay, where, staying at Mrs. ——­’s[1] Boarding House, we met some of the smartest people.  If ever you visit this delightful watering-place, mind you look Mrs. ——­ up.  She is a most charming creature, and the poulet roti au sauce pain at the table d’hote, is simply charming.  Her terms, considering the company you meet, are very reasonable.  Now, I know you want to learn all about my new gowns.  Well, the Pater insisted that I should send to the ——­ Clothing Company, of ——­, for patterns.  He says (dear old boy!) that we should “patronise British Industry.”  I got, amongst other delightful notions, the cleverest idea possible in stripes, and intending to be very economical, bought a paper pattern from ——­ in ——­ Street.  Well, I turned out, all by myself, a most stylish frock, which ISABELLE says suits me to the ground.  But the task exhausted both my intelligence and industry.  The rest of the materials I took to Madame ——­ of ——­ Street, and she is simply making them lovely!  I think I told you that Madame ——­ is supplying most of the dresses that will be worn at JESSIE JONES’ (you know, the daughter of Lady JONES) wedding.  Lady SMITH will look simply superb in rhubarb-tart satin, and the Countess of COLHOLEBOROUGH has a wonderful gown made of squash-beetled coloured velvet slashed with green, that is sure to be the talk of the Row until the end of the Season!

Of course, we have been to all the Private Views.  We miss the Grosvenor very much, for the New is scarcely a substitute.  However, I saw several smart people at the latter place—­some of them ladies of title, my dear.  At the door I found standing one of ——­’s, of ——­ Street, victorias.  They are very nice, and, as they can be bought on the three years’ hire system, most convenient.  The pictures at the Academy struck me as rather dull this year.  Of course, everybody is much struck with Mr. FILDES’ “Doctor.”  By the way, if the poor little patient is suffering from influenza (as