ANXIOUS.—­You can’t do better than send me those L50,000.  I guarantee secrecy and quick returns.  The Eyeoyu Land Trust is best for your purposes (Pref. deb. 492; stk. 18. 2. 3).  Send money at once to CROESUS, E.C.  Delay might be fatal.

CAPITALIST.—­No doubt, as you say, Consols are Consols; but take my advice and don’t give GOSCHEN your money.  Why not try the United Bladder Mortgage Company?  Bladders are bound to go up.  They were floated at 10 and are now at 96. Verb. sap. No; L20,000 would not be too much.

“POTTER.”—­Something good may he done in Land Rails, if you can get near enough.  Have a shot at them by all means.

“PRACTICAL JOKER.”—­Quite right.  Sell them.

“ANXIOUS INQUIRER” wishes to be informed what is the difference between Preferred and Deferred.  If he will tell us how much he expects to receive in each case, the mere calculation of the difference will be an easy matter; but to receive it is quite another affair.  If he wishes to know the “distinction” between these two classes of “securities,” it may be summed up in the answer to the question, “Will you have it now, or wait till you get it?”

“A PUZZLED ONE.”—­Sell everything.

“MEET ME BY MIDNIGHT.”—­Yes.  A Loan.

“LAMBKIN.”—­Part with No. 2, &c., but take care of No. 1.

“INSIDER.”—­Get out.

“TOTTIE TOTTS.”—­Here for private consultation from 5 to 7 P.M.

“RICHARD.”—­Buy Bizzy B’s, Sell Early P’s, and Spoiled Fives. Buy Jingoes.

“BRUNO.”—­“Bear” your burdens.

“ADA WITH THE GOLDENHAIR.”—­Send photo at once.  Cannot advise until we know your figure.

  “CROESUS,
  E.C.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  CONSCIENTIOUSNESS.

Miss Fitzogre.  “WELL, GOOD-BYE, PERCIVAL, AND BE A GOOD BOY!”

Percival (a very good boy, who has just been specially warned not to make personal remarks about People in their presence).  “GOOD-BYE.  I’LL NOT TELL NURSE WHAT I THINK OF YOUR NOSE TILL YOU’RE GONE!”]

* * * * *

A JUBILEE GREETING!

(Set to a Song from Sir Walter Scott.)

NOVEMBER 9, 1891.

Mr. Punch (for self and everybody) loquitur:—­

My Prince, ’tis for our coming King
We all lift glass in hand;
For him that loud hurrahs do ring
To-day all round the land,
My Prince,
All round a loyal land!

Let sycophantish slave kotoo;
You love not such display;
Let courtiers cringe and creatures “boo.” 
’Tis not our English way,
My Prince,
’Tis not our English way.

As FLORA to Prince CHARLIE bent
It is no shame to bow;
And you’re a man to be content
With man’s respect, I trow,
My Prince,
With man’s respect, I trow.

For Fifty Years we’ve known you, Sir,
And liked you.  Love is free! 
That’s why the land is all astir,
To hail your Jubilee,
My Prince,
To hail your Jubilee.