ORLEANS NURSERY SELECTION.
The man who would back any other
Appears but a gander to be,
For the horse that all comers will smother
Is certainly _Tanderagee_!
* * * * *
[Illustration: DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE.
"I SAY, GUV'NER! WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO BE TOOK DOWN FOR HALTERATIONS
AND REPAIRS?"]
* * * * *
MY SEASON TICKET.
Ever against my breast,
Safe in my pocket pressed,
Ready at my behest,
Daintily pretty
Gilt-printed piece of leather,
Though fair or foul the weather,
Daily we go together
Up to the City.
Yet, as I ride at ease,
Papers strewn on my knees,
And I hear "Seasons, please!"
Shouted in warning:
Pockets I search in vain
All through and through again;
"Pray do not stop the train--
Lost it this morning.
No, I have not a card,
Nor can I pay you, Guard--
Truly my lot is hard,
This is the reason,
Now I recall to mind
Changing my clothes, I find
I left them all behind,--
Money, cards, 'Season.'"
* * * * *
WRITTEN A HUNDRED YEARS HENCE.
(_FROM A COLLECTION OF COMMUNICATIONS SUPPLIED BY OUR PROPHETIC
COMPILER._)
DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Pray protect the Griffin! Those Goths and Vandals,
the Members of the Corporation of the City of London, will remove it,
unless you intervene. This beautiful work of Art, that stands on the
supposed site of the mythical Temple Bar, is to come down.
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