Part 3

Then our chemistry comes, and each symbol Will vary, it seems, every age, And the man has a mind that is nimble, Who conquers each intricate page. There's AgNO_{3} as the Nitrate Of silver as plain as can be, And anon comes the Sulphate and Citrate Of Iron, that's known as Fe.

Very steep is the pathway to knowledge, As Medical Students will find; And we'll hope that they'll work, when at College, Or what they denominate "grind." And hereafter, amid the aroma Of weeds, they'll think tenderly still Of the dear days before the diploma That gave them the "Licence to Kill!"

* * * * *

How Then?

Mr. BRIGHT, backing up the Anti-Vaccination fanatics, says, "If honest parents object to have their children vaccinated, I would not compel them to submit." He would, in fact, substitute voluntary for compulsory vaccination. But what if voluntary vaccination for the few means involuntary small-pox for the many, Mr. BRIGHT?

* * * * *

IN NUCE.--Mr. GLADSTONE, adversely criticising Dr. INGRAM'S _History of the Irish Union_, compares that gentleman to a buoy tossed about on the waves. Indeed, the ex-Premier's article may be thus compendiously summed up _à la_ PAUL BEDFORD:--"I _don't_ believe you, my Buoy!"

* * * * *

FOREST TALK.

_Compiled for the Use of the Epping Deer-stalkers._

This wounded buck that is approaching us, painfully dragging its shattered hind-leg after it, must be the same creature we peppered, after such good sport, last Tuesday week.

Dear me, I did not know that our hunting-pack consisted of a mastiff, two poodles, three bull-dogs, a beagle, and a bloodhound.

Are these clumsy sportsmen, who blaze away without knowing what they are firing at, the "gentlemen" invited by the Verderer to assist him at the chase? Ha! I think, from the way he shakes his head as he makes off, that I must have hit that old buck nearly in the eye.

No, I am mistaken. I can clearly see now from the manner in which he is limping that I must have wounded the young deer badly in the ankle.

I wonder whether I shall find him lying down in a copse and dying some time next week.

My friends will certainly have to wait for their venison, for, strange to say, that is the seventeenth buck I have maimed this morning who has managed to drag himself off after being hit.

Fortunately the officers of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals are engaged in Town.

While this lasts, however, there cannot be a doubt but that the quality of the sport is excellent.

I wonder whether the Conservators are really fully aware of what a regular good time of it I'm having.

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE COMPLAINT OF THE COCKNEY CLERK.

"I know of no cure but for the Englishman (1) to do his best to compete in the particulars where the German now excels; (2) to try to show that, taken all round, he is worth more than the German."

_Mr. Gladstone on English Clerks and German Competition._

All very fine, O orator illustrious! But I as soon would be a Mole, or Merman, As a short-grubbing, horribly industrious, Linguistic German.

A Clerk's a Clerk, that is a cove who scribbles All day, and then goes in for cue, and "jigger," And not a mere machine who feeds by nibbles, Slaves like a nigger.

Learn languages? And for two quid a week? Cut barmaids, billiards, bitter beer and betting? Yah! that may suit a Sausage, or a sneak! Whistles need wetting.

That is if they are genuine English whistles, And not dry, hoarse, yah-yah Teutonic throttles. _I_'m not a donkey who can thrive on thistles. No, that's "no bottles."

I've learned my native tongue,--and that's a teaser-- I've also learned a lot of slang and patter; But German, French, Italian, Portuguese, Sir, For "screw" no fatter?

Not me, my old exuberant Wood-chopper! Level _me_ to the straw-haired Carls and Hermanns? No; there's another trick would do me proper,-- Kick out the Germans!

Old BISMARCK'S "Blood and Iron's" a receipt meant For Sour-Kraut gobblers, sandy and sardonic; But for us Britons that Teutonic treatment Is much too tonic.

The cheek of 'em just puts me in a rage, Send 'em back home, ah! even pay their passage! Or soon, by Jove, we'll have to call our age, The German "Sauce"-age!

* * * * *

A STABLE COMPANION.

We read in the _Daily Telegraph_ of Sept. 30th the following:--

NO SALARY.--A Widow Lady (39), well educated but not accomplished, will give her Services as Housekeeper in return for a comfortable HOME, and to be treated as one of the family, and the occasional use of a good hack, no need to have carried a lady before. Thoroughly understands the management of a gentleman's house, companionable, and ladylike appearance. Superior references.--Address, &c.

Is it the comfortable home which has "no need to have carried a lady before"? or the "family" of which the Advertiser desires to be one? We should imagine that this very masculine lady would be more likely to carry the family. Failing answers to her advertisement, she had better apply to a Circus for a post. "The occasional use of a good hack" would evidently be instead of salary. But she is much too modest. Why say she is "not accomplished" when she knows how to break in a horse? Any Rugby Football Club would give her "the occasional use of a good _hack_."

* * * * *

THEATRICAL INDEX WANTED.--"The Way Out."

* * * * *

SOME NOTES AT STARMOUTH.

I must say they take _rather_ a matter of course view here of my engagement. No one would suppose from their manner that there was anything at all unusual in a match between a Government official and a confectioner's assistant! LOUISE'S Aunt, indeed, (whether sincerely, or from motives of policy, I hardly know,) does not conceal her regret that a certain ROBERT PONKING had not "spoken out" while he had the opportunity. PONKING is a rising salesman in the trimming department of some upholstering business, and doing, I understand, extremely well. Still, I do flatter myself--but one can't _say_ these things, unfortunately!

An encounter--which, but for LOUISE'S exquisite common sense, might have been awkward--has just taken place. We met PONKING on the Pier. It struck me that the Aunt's surprise was a little overdone, but he was evidently unprepared for _me_. LOUISE perfectly composed, however; introduced me as "her intended" (a trifle _bourgeois_ this, perhaps, but it _is_ difficult to know what to say--I felt it myself.) PONKING allowed her to see he was fearfully cut up, and I am afraid she is reproaching herself a little, poor girl!

We have met him again; he has reached the saturnine and Byronic stage; LOUISE remonstrated with him for smoking so many cigars, which she was sure were bad for him (_his_ cigars are bad for everybody else at all events!) and he replied gloomily that there was no one to care _now_ what he did, and oversmoking was as pleasant a way of leaving the world as most. I can see this is depressing LOUISE; she is not nearly so bright when alone with me as she used to be--she does not even take much interest in my Drama! I do my best to comfort her by declaring that PONKING is only "posing," and has not the remotest idea of dying for love; but that only seems to irritate her--she has such a tender little heart.

As we are constantly meeting him about, I appeal to him privately to brighten up a little. He is much affected, says I must make some allowance for his position, and implores me not to forbid him LOUISE'S society altogether. He will make an effort to be gayer in the future, he promises me, the mask shall only be dropped in private. After all, he is ALF'S friend, and an especial favourite of the Aunt's. If he does not recognise the propriety of going, I can't send him away--we must see something of him. I should be sorry for him myself--if only he were not such an underbred beast!

There is certainly a decided alteration in PONKING; he now affects the most rollicking high spirits--though why he should find it necessary to dissemble his grief by playing the fool all over the sands is more than I can understand. But he grinds piano-organs, and goes round with the tambourine; receives penny galvanic shocks, and howls until he collects a crowd; has "larks" with the lovebirds which pick out fortunes, and chaffs all the Professors of Phrenology, choosing, as the head-quarters of his exploits, any place where Louise and I happen to be, to whom he returns, with roars of laughter, to tell us his "latest." Then he plays practical jokes on _me_, chalking things on my back, and putting sand down my neck. It is all very well for him to plead that he does these things "to hide an aching heart,"--but if he hides it in this way, he won't be able to find it again--that's all! I can see, too, it disgusts LOUISE, who bites her lips a good deal, although, she says, it is "quite a treat to see how Mr. PONKING is enjoying himself." I am afraid, for all that, that she thinks me a little too serious. Perhaps I am--I must prove to her that it is possible to rollick with refinement. But, somehow, I can never make her laugh as PONKING does.

I very seldom have a quiet hour with her now; her brother has persuaded her that she ought "to see more of what's going on," and "do as others do." Her wishes, are, of course, paramount with me--although I cannot see the enjoyment of going to the open-air Music-Hall _quite_ so often, nor did I come here to play "penny nap," on the sands all the afternoon. If, too, LOUISE must speculate, she might "go nap" with more judgment, and I do strongly object to the ostentatious generosity with which PONKING throws away his best cards, rather than rob her of a trick--it is in the _worst_ taste, and yet I fear she is touched by it. In the evening several of us promenade the town arm in arm; PONKING has a banjo and ALF an accordion. LOUISE begs me to go, to see that ALF does not get into trouble--which may be necessary enough, but who will see that _I_ get into none?

It is unpleasant to be warned by a policeman not to make so much noise over the "_Soy, oh, what Joy_," ditty, and I don't know why he singled _me_ out--I was only _humming_ the confounded thing! They generally come in and have supper with me, which Mrs. SURGE complains bitterly about; she says the gentlemen stay so late, and are so noisy, and her room smells of smoke so next day. I am aware of that, because I have to _sit_ in it. I don't like PONKING at any time, but, if possible, he is rather more detestable in his sentimental moods, which generally come upon him after supper, when he informs me that the 'alo has departed from his life, and begs me, in broken accents, to allow LOUISE to visit his tomb occasionally. If he were only _there_!

To-day LOUISE appeared, for the first time, in a striped yachting-cap. I merely hinted, very gently, that, as she had never been on board a yacht in her life, and the cap did not even suit her, I preferred her ordinary style of head-dress, when she grew angry at once. _Everybody_, she informed me, was not of my opinion--Mr. PONKING had complimented her particularly--hang PONKING!

I find myself constantly greeting and being greeted by Blazers. I am sure _I_ don't know how I have come to be acquainted with so many--they all ask me "How is myself," and, in answer to my polite, but scarcely warm, inquiries after their health, reply that they are "ter-rific"--which they _are_! PONKING was asked by LOUISE the other afternoon whether he was "ready for his tea;" and answered briefly, but emphatically, "Wait till I get _'old_ of it!" LOUISE remarked afterwards that he was "so quick." I doubt very much whether she would say as much of _me_. I am as fond of her as ever--in some respects, fonder--but I cannot help noticing these things--I cannot help seeing that Starmouth is not doing her any good.

_Afternoon: on the Sands._--LOUISE and ALF have been scooping a pit. When it is dug, she says coquettishly that there is just room for me. I decline, a little curtly perhaps--but I really am surprised at LOUISE--such extremely bad style! Her Aunt, who is eating plums hard-by, says "some people seem to think themselves too grand for anything." I can hear ALF whispering that LOUISE would not have to ask "poor old PONK" twice.

LOUISE says, pouting, that she shall not ask _me_ again. I can see I have hurt her feelings. After all, it is possible to be _too_ particular--there is no harm in it--countless couples around us are making themselves at least equally conspicuous. Somehow I never can be as firm with LOUISE as I am with most people.... I _ought_ to be comfortable, with her head resting upon my shoulder and my arm encircling her waist (_she_ insists on this)--but, as a matter of fact, I catch myself remarking how very much LOUISE has caught the sun of late. And she has developed quite a _twang_ within the last few days!

PONKING has just come up; he has arranged with a photographer to take us all, just as we are, in a group. As PONKING and ALF consider it humorous to be taken in the act of making horrible grimaces, we promptly become objects of general interest. I should _not_ like to be seen by any of the fellows at the office just now.

We are all posed--and a nice picture we shall make!--when, on the outskirts of the crowd, I see a slender stately figure, which does not seem quite to belong to Starmouth.

There is actually a sort of resemblance--but that is absurd! She notices the crowd, and as she pauses with a half-indifferent curiosity, I see her full face.... It is almost too terrible to be true--but I am under no delusion,--_it is ETHEL DERING!_

"Quite steady all, for one moment, please," says the photographer. If I could only bury my head in the sand like an ostrich,--but _that_ would excite remark, I suppose, and, besides, there is no time!

* * * * *

Theatrical Noes to Queries.

Mrs. JOHN WOOD is not engaged with a sequel to _East Lynne_, but with JOHN CLAYTON.

ARTHUR CECIL was not a favourite of Queen ELIZABETH; and she never received him at the Court in his life.

WILSON BARRETT does not always make a speech after an earthquake.

And lastly it is not true that Mrs. JAMES BROWN-POTTER was instructed in her art by Mrs. SIDDONS, Mrs. JORDAN, Miss ELLEN TERRY, Mme. SARAH BERNHARDT, and Miss MINNIE PALMER.

* * * * *

-->NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.