The Showman.  This is owing to the fact that she is impregnated with electricity to such an extraordinary degree, that any contact with her lips will produce a shock which would probably prove fatal!

The C.C. Oh, where is that friend o’ mine? (To the Sibyl.) I come out without my lightnin’ conductor this evenin’, Miss; but I’ve got a friend somewhere in ’ere as ’ll be ’appy to represent me.

    [The Tall Nonentity tries to efface himself, but is relieved
    to find that the Sibyl does not take the offer seriously.

The Showman.  As a proof that I am not speaking without foundation, this young lady will allow you to feel her hands, when you will at once become aware of the electric current. [The Sibyl leans across the barrier, and tenders a decidedly pretty palm for public pressure, but there is the usual reluctance at first to embrace the opportunity.  At length a seeker after truth grasps the hand, and reports that he “can feel a somethink,” whereupon his example is followed by the others, including the C.C., who, finding the sensation agreeable, pretends to be electrified to such an extent that he is unable to let go—­which concludes the entertainment.

Spectators (departing).  She may have ‘ad one o’ them galvanic belts on for all you can tell.  But, mind yer, there’s a lot in it, all the same.  Look at the way he brought smoke out o’ them clays!

The C.C. (to his Friend.) That was a lark, JIM!  But look ‘ere—­don’t you go tellin’ the Missus; she ain’t on the Me’atmer lay—­not much, she ain’t!

* * * * *

[Illustration:  HONOURS EASY.

Sir E.L. (gaily).  “BARONETTED?  OF COURSE, MY BOY—­RIGHT THING TO DO!  THANKS.  TA-TA!” [Careers away, to keep up his circulation.

Mr. P. “AND YOU, MR. LABBY?”

H.L. (languidly).  “OH—­AH—­AS FOR ME—­I’M OUT OF IT—­THAT’S THE TRUTH.”]

* * * * *

WOT CHER, LABBY?

    ["Mr. LABOUCHERE, so he says, has come to London to enjoy the
    smiles of the new Ministry.”—­Morning Paper.]

  Enjoy them, dear LABBY, smile back, if you can—­
    Though your lip has a curl that portends something sinister—­
  It is painful, I take it, to flash in the pan,
    While a rival goes off with a bang as a Minister.

  But you (you’re a cynic, that’s one of the ways,
    And by no means the worst, to get credit for kindness),
  You can smile at this struggle for titles and praise,
    You can laugh at your friends while you envy their blindness.

  A time, so I fancy you saying, will come;
    They are not done with LABBY, for all their sweet smiling;
  And they’re vastly mistaken who think he’ll be dumb,
    Or abandon his amiable habit of riling.