[Illustration:  A KINDLY VIEW OF IT.

First Rustic (to Second Ditto).  “OH, I SAY!  AIN’T HE FOND OF HIS HORSE!”]

* * * * *

IO TRIUMPHE!

OR, GREEK FOR HEIFER!

(By an Old Boy.)

[Illustration]

  Thee, Camus, reverend renown
    Thy grateful votaries seek,
  Foil’d are the Vandals who’d “send down”
    The Genius of Greek.

  For Culture’s jewell’d master-key
    They cupboard pick-locks tend,
  And in the cult of Mammon see
    Learning’s true aim and end;

  Pit shallow youth’s impatient fuss
    Against the grit of CATO,
  Set IBSEN up for AESCHYLUS,
    And OLLENDORFF for PLATO;

  For songs august of heroes sung,
    And epic hosts embattled,
  Enforce some pidgin-Latin tongue
    By every waiter prattled;

  For nymphs, where o’er the fragrant pines
    A sea-bright sun uprises,
  Their fancy plays round primmest lines
    Of prigs receiving prizes.

  From Sir JOHN CHEKE to Dr. JEBB,
    From CALVERLEY to MILTON,
  Clear spirits burst the Sophist-web,
    And rent the rook they built on.

  WELLDON is falsely named in this,
    For sure, in slighting Greek, he
  Will Learning’s final blessing miss,
    Her [Greek:  kalos pepoieke].

  What though the urchin deem it “rot”
    (Such hasty views we stoop’d to,
  Not seeing how on earth they got
    Tetummenos from Tupto)

  Still let us learn, not beastly facts,
    The field of any booby,
  But how thought acts and interacts,
    And contraries can true be.

  Though on oblivion’s barren shores
    He give it quick sepulture,
  Still through reluctant passman’s pores
    Instil the dew of culture.

  Still give us of the rills divine
    That flow from haunted Helicon,
  Nor rend thyself to feed the swine,
    Like a perverted Pelican.

  Keep far the time when every bee
    That booms in every bonnet,
  Shall find a chair of Apiary,
    And drone long lectures on it.

  Still the large light and sweetness seek
    Of KEATS’S raptured vision,
  (Or KEATE’S)—­till Greek at last meets Greek
    In brotherhood Elysian.

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A NEW TREASURE FOR.  THE TREASURER OF BARTHOLOMEW’S.—­Mr. Punch, G.P.E., General President of Everything, begs to congratulate Professor HUBERT HERKOMER, R.A.M.A., on his admirable portrait of Sir SYDNEY HEDLEY, and now, not only HEDLEY, but Full-Lengthly WATERLOW, Bart., of “Bart’s,” which H.R.H. correctly described as “a very fine work of Art, painted by one of our most eminent artists.”  Such approbation of Sir HUBERT HERKOMER is praise indeed! Mr. Punch, G.P.E., prefixes the “Sir” prophetically.  For the present it may be taken as the last syllable, detached, of “Profes-sir”