seedy-looking gentlemen.

"I perceive," began SONOGUN, "that you hate the world, having suffered much injustice from it."

"We do; we have!" was the cordial reply.

"I, too," continued SONOGUN, "have many grievances. But tell me who and what are you?"

"Our names are unknown even to ourselves," replied his new friends, for friends he felt them to be. "By profession we are industrial knights. That should be sufficient.

"It is;—more than sufficient," said the proud, honourable young man, "I will be one of you. We will take it out of the world together."

The bargain thus made was soon ratified. They procured cards, SONOGUN whistled to his dog Stray, and they all set out together to the nearest railway station to pick up their victims. This is the usual method, and thus card-sharpers are manufactured.

CHAPTER III.

W. BRAUN, Soul-tatters.

In the present there is absolute redemption. Though a gulf should yawn, go not you to sleep, but rub your eyes; be up and doing.—JAKES.

In the meantime, SONOGUN's cousin, ACIS ARRANT, generally known to his jocular intimates as Knave ARRANT, had been living in luxury with his cousin's weak mother, whom he had contrived to marry. To effect this, however, he had been compelled to tear a will into little pieces, and had, at the same time, ruined that peace of his mind which he often gave to SONOGUN. The unfortunate consequence was, that SONOGUN did not value it in the least, and always returned it to him. And thus the relations of the two men, who should have been friends, the guardian and the ward, were always on a hostile footing, which only the most delicate handling could have healed. ACIS was not happy. When his glass told him he was old, he had no repartee ready, and could only speculate gloomily on the disagreeable fate which had compelled him to take part in a modern novel, and had evidently told him off to pass away into the unseen in Chapter 40.

But, of course, GLADYS and her father, the doctor, knew nothing about all this. GLADYS always looked happy; her hair, her mouth, her eyes, her ears, even her little unformed nose, all looked as happy as possible. She was a pleasant little patent moraliser, with a double escapement action for great occasions. On this evening all the family was gathered together, including the inevitable infant, whose prattle serves to soothe the gloomy perversity of morose heroes. On such an evening as this SONOGUN had seen them all years ago, and, though he was standing in the garden and all the windows were shut, he had heard every single whisper of the family conversation. The Doctor seemed to be troubled, and GLADYS came up to him in her caressing way.

"My dear," he said, simply, "SONOGUN is in trouble, and we must rescue him." No more was said, but the next moment GLADYS and her father had left by the London express.

CHAPTER IV.

SONOGUN had seen a notice in a railway-carriage. "Beware of card-sharpers" was printed upon it, and it flashed upon him, with the force of a revelation, that it must be meant for him. Once more he made up his mind. He would fly. Fear lent him a spare pair of second-hand wings. He whistled to his dog Stray, and having thrown HAECKEL and RENAN out of the window, he flapped twice, and then soared up, Stray following as best he could. It was very dark, and the clouds were threatening. For a long time he avoided them, but at length he fell into a particularly damp one, and would inevitably have been drowned, had not the sagacious Stray brought men to his assistance. And thus SONOGUN, the scoffer, the agnostic, the moody, gloomy, morose, cast-iron, Roman-faced misanthrope, got home. That same evening he changed his clothes and his character, and on the following day married GLADYS.

"QUITE NEW AND ORIGINAL."

Infants in Arms.

The fencing Lecture, entitled, The Story of Swordsmanship, seems to have been so great a success, last Wednesday, at the Lyceum, as to have aroused the ire of some Music-hall Managers, who earnestly contend that the Stage of the Theatre, that is, of the Drama pur et simple, very pure et very simple, should not be used or misused for the purpose of giving an entertainment, which, though given without scenes, was yet "illustrated with cuts."

It is highly probable that this offensive and defensive subject will be followed by other lectures more, perhaps, in keeping with theatrical tradition. We will not give our authority for this statement, but may intimate that that eminent professor of the P.R. and P.M.N.A.S.D., known within certain circles as The Slogger, will, at no very distant date, give at one of our most popular theatres a lecture, the first of a series, on Pugilism and the Drama.

Tickets, of course, to be obtained at the Box-office. The subject of the first Lecture will be Box and Fighting Cocks.

Among other things the eloquent professor will draw the attention of his audience to what a change in the history of the Stage, nay, perhaps, in the history of the world, would have occurred if to Box's inquiry as to his pugilistic capacity, Cox had replied, "I can!" and had there and then thrown himself, like Mr. Pickwick "into a paralytic attitude," and exclaimed, "Come on!" an invitation which the challenger would have been bound in honour to accept. The Lecturer will practically show how "to make a hit," and give an example from the life of the "early closing movement." The Lecture will be interspersed with songs, such as "Black Eyes and Blue Eyes," "Hand and Glove," "Ring! Ring!" "The Hymn to Floorer" a part-song, by four choristers, and "Me-fist-O's song" from Faust. Perhaps the next Lecture on the some subject will be given at The Umpire Theatre.

AN OLD CRY REVIVED (unpalatable to the French Painters and Patriots).—"À Berlin! à Berlin!"

SHAKSPEARE AND THE UNMUSICAL GLASSES.

Mr. PINERO, in his letter to the D.T., complained that, should the Music Halls obtain their wicked way, through the incompetence of the County Council to deal with the matter—(but is not DRURIOLANUS a Counti-Counciliarius, and ready to see justice done to the poor player, author, (and manager alike? Sure-ly!)—then a play at a Hall of Music (they used to be "Caves of Harmony" in THACKERAY's time, and the principal Hall of Music was SAM HALL) will be heard between "a puff at a cigar and a sip from a glass." Well, but what piece can get on without a puff or so? Would not a good cigar during a good piece be on additional "draw?" We have "Smoking Concerts"; why not "Smoking Theatricals"? But how about the Ladies? Years ago there were no smoking-carriages on the Railways. And what nowadays is the proportion of smoking to non-smoking compartments? Very small. The Ladies will decide this question. But how about the Actors? In modern pieces they never lose an opportunity of smoking. Why shouldn't the cigar be introduced into Shakspearian revivals? Anachronism