Culch. (to himself).  If I can only keep him on at this tunny! (Aloud.) And—­er—­what does it taste like exactly, now?

Mr. B. (pregnantly), You order it, Sir—­insist on having it.  Then you’ll know what it tastes like! [He devotes himself to his soup.

Culch. (with his eyes lowered—­to himself).  I must look up in another minute—­and then! [He shivers.

* * * * *

“TYPICAL DEVELOPMENTS.”

One of our very occasional contributors, whose valuable time is mainly occupied by the composition of successful novels, sends us the following, written by his type-writer.  From this specimen it will be gathered what a real economy in correcting letter-press a type-writer must be.

[Illustration]

    Dear Editor

I send you my new book to reed and if you likit pleaase give me a legup.  The story of my other book was anti-turkish but has not yet been probited in Constanple though it has reachd its tetenth edition, at least the ninth is neraly all shrubshcribed bedfore it isrereaddy.  If my pullisher is not sasfide oughtbe.  Never use pen now only typwritr so much quickerin tellgible convenent an leshble

      Yours
      S SMUGGYNS

It strikes us that either the machine stammers, or that it was, at the time of writing, somewhat the worse for liquor, or that it is a very truthfully phonetic-writing but somewhat indiscreet amanuensis.  At the same time herewith and hereby every success to our friend SMUGGYNS’S new book.

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HARD LINES FOR HIM.—­When the first stone of a new theatre in Cranbourne Street was laid the other day by some Magnates of the Theatrical Profession—­beg pardon, “the Profession,” we should have said—­Mrs. BANCROFT made a telling impromptu speech, and then Mr. YARDLEY, ancient Cricketer and Modern Dramatist, was hit on the head—­accidentally, of course—­by the bottle which is in use on these occasions.  “Very YARDLEY treated,” observed Sir DRURIOLANUS, in his happiest vein.  Not the first literary gent who, according to the ancient slang of the Tom-and-Jerry period, has been “cut” by ill-use of the bottle.  But the unfortunate author’s sorrows did not end with this sad blow, as, very soon afterwards, his dear friends the Critics, with profuse apologies for being compelled to handle him so severely, were down upon him for his new version of a French piece, entitled The Planter.  So the logical sequence of events was, that first a blow was planted, and then appeared The Planter.

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ECCLESIASTICAL LAYMAN.—­At a meeting in Rome, the “Duke di SERMONETA” took the chair.  If ever there were a staunch Churchman, this by his name, rendered in English as “Sermon-devourer,” should be he.