supplying their internal economy with such creature comforts as, in days of yore, disinherited Esau, and procured a somewhat gastronomic celebrity for the far-famed Heliogabalus.  But a gentleman who could treat his stomach like a postponed bill in the House of Commons—­that is, adjourn it sine die, or take it into consideration “this day seven years”—­was really a likely person to attract attention and excite curiosity:  accordingly, Bernard Cavanagh was questioned closely by some of his visitors; but he, like the speculation, appeared to be “one not likely to answer.”

Apparent efforts at concealment invariably lead to doubt, and, doubt engendering curiosity, is very like to undergo, especially from one of the fair sex, a scrutiny of the most searching kind.  Eve caused the fall of Adam—­a daughter of Eve has discovered and crushed this heretofore hidden mystery.  This peculiarly empty individual was discovered by the good lady—­despite the disguise of a black patch upon his nose and an immeasurable outspread of Bandana superficially covering that (as he asserted) useless orifice, his mouth—­sneaking into the far-off premises of a miscellaneous vendor of ready-dressed eatables; and there Bernard the faster—­the anti-nourishment and terrestrial food-defying wonder—­the certificated of Heaven knows how many deacons, parsons, physicians, and fools—­demanded the very moderate allowance for his breakfast of a twopenny loaf, a sausage, and a quarter of a pound of ham cut fat:  that’s the beauty of it—­cut fat!  The astonished witness of this singular purchase rushed at once to the hotel:  Cavanagh might contain the edibles, she could not:  the affair was blown; an investigation very properly adjudicated upon the case; and three months’ discipline at the tread-mill is now the reward of this arch-impostor’s merits.  So far so good; but in the name of common sense let some experienced practitioner in the art of “cutting for the simples” be furnished with a correct list of the awful asses he has cozened at “hood-man blind;” and pray Heaven they may each and severally be operated on with all convenient speed!

* * * * *

“SLUMBER, MY DARLING.”

During the vacation, the Judges’ bench in each of the Courts at Westminster Hall has been furnished with luxurious air-cushions, and heated with the warm-air apparatus.  Baron Parke declares that the Bench is now really a snug berth,—­and, during one of Sergeant Bompas’s long speeches, a most desirable place for taking

[Illustration:  A SOUND NAP.]

* * * * *

A FAMILIAR EPISTLE

FROM

JOHN STUMP, ESQ., POET LAUREATE TO THE BOROUGH OF GRUB-CUM-GUZZLE,

TO

SIMON NIBB, ESQ., COMMON-COUNCIL-MAN OF THE SAID BOROUGH,

Setting forth a notable Plan for the better management of