See how she purrs, false puss!  She deems her dot
    May well out-glitter mine. 
  And he!  That slow seductive smile I know. 
    At Cronstadt by the brine,
  To that dear dulcet voice, not long ago,
    My ears did I incline.

  Ah! and those fine moustachios’ conquering curl
    Subdued my maiden heart. 
  For me those tendril-tips he’d twist and twirl,
    Looking so gay, so smart;
  And now he does it for another girl,
    And I—­I stand apart.

  Did I not give my heart to him—­false one!—­
    And also—­well, my “stocking”? 
  Nor after her “commercial” charms he’ll run,
    My modest beauties mocking. 
  Hist!  I believe of me they’re making fun!
    O Ciel! ’tis simply shocking!

  Hist!  I can hear her, the sly cat.  How fond
    Her glances bold and bright! 
  Her bag is brimming, mine’s a broken bond. 
    I dreamed not me he’d slight
  For such mere bagman beauty, tamely blonde,
    But—­ah! was BLOWITZ right?

    [Left doubting.

[Footnote 1:  “The success of a Russian Loan is not dearly purchased by a little effusion, which, after all, commits Russia to nothing.” (See Cartoon “Turning the Tables,” Sept. 26, 1891.)]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  A TERRIBLE THREAT.

Impatient Old Gentleman (to Female Post-Office Assistant, who is chatting pleasantly with an agreeable acquaintance).  “LOOK HERE, YOUNG WOMAN, IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME MY CHANGE, CONFOUND IT, I’M HANGED IF I DON’T GO AWAY WITHOUT IT!”]

* * * * *

DR. VAUGHAN, of Salford, is to be the New Roman Catholic Archbishop of Westminster.  He is a bright cheerful-looking man now, but it is to be feared that the extra toil and trouble of London may soon give his features a Care-Vaughan expression.

* * * * *

THE BOUNDS OF SCIENCE.

(FRAGMENT FROM A FIN DE MONDE ROMANCE.)

The Student had read many things, but he had not yet considered the subject of Coal.  He knew that it was expensive, but he had not imagined that there was so little in the world.  But he at length obtained the requisite knowledge, and set to work to put things to-rights.  He called upon the Secretary of a Transatlantic Ocean Steamer Company, and remonstrated with him upon the waste with which the transactions of his institution were conducted.

“You carry your passengers too rapidly,” he observed.

“As how?” asked the Secretary.

“Why I am given to understand that the power generated by the coal gives each person on board your ships a rate of progression night and day of twenty-four horses.”

“And, if it does—­what then?”

“Why, it is too much,” returned the Student.  “All the coal in the world will be exhausted in something like four or five hundred years; and so, while there is yet time, I had better go somewhere where coal is a secondary consideration.  What shall I do?”