friends.

Yer dingy nooks and slums, sombre and slimy,

Is gifts wot Prowidence most kyindly sends

To give hus chaps a chance of perks and pickins;

But if the Town's chock-full of "arc" and "glow,"

With you and me, NAN, it will play the dickens.

We must turn 'onest, NAN, and that's no go!

MOST APPROPRIATE.—The Bishop of DURHAM has appointed Mr. T. DIBDIN Chancellor of the Diocese of Durham. He already holds the Chancellorships of Exeter and Rochester. Three Chancellorships, all on the high sees too! "THOMAS DIBDIN" is the right man in the right place.

PROVERB "UP TO DATE."—"Cumming events cast their shadows before." And let's hope the shadows will be speedily dispelled.

HOW IT'S DONE.

(A Handbook to Honesty.)

No. VIII.-"SOLD AGAIN!"

SCENE—An Auction-room, breathing an air of solid, if somewhat Philistinish suburban comfort and respectability. Amidst a labyrinthine accumulation of household furniture, a number of people are dispersed, many of them substantial-looking middle-class male and female "buyers," with lists and lead-pencils, on the look-out for "bargains," a sprinkling of the ancient race, and an outer fringe of casual, lounging, lookers-on. The gentleman in the rostrum is a voluble personage, with a rapidly roving eye, of preternatural quickness in picking up "bids." Attendants, shaggy men, in soiled shirt-sleeves, with saw-dusty whiskers, and husky voices. A pleasant-faced Paterfamilias, and his "Good lady," are discovered inspecting a solidly-built, well-seasoned, age-toned chest of mahogany drawers.

Paterfamilias (sotto voce). Just what you want, my dear, as far as I can see. What do you think?

Materfamilias. I like the look of them much, JOHN. None of your new, cheap, thinly-veneered, blown-together rubbish, smelling of shavings and French-polish. Solid ma'ogany, every bit; the drawers run as smoothly as could be wished, and—see! if there ain't actually some sprigs of dry lavender still a laying in 'em!

Paterfamilias (decidedly). Just so, my dear, I shall certainly bid for them. [Marks his catalogue vigorously.

Auctioneer (dropping his hammer smartly). Sold! Remove the first-class feather-bed, SAM. Buyer o' that has a bargain! (Nodding blandly to pleased purchaser). Really the prices at which things are going to-night are ruinous! 'Owever, there's no reserve, and the lucky public gets the pull. The next article, Ladies and Gents, No. 471, is a very superior, well-made, fully-seasoned, solid Spanish, ma'ogany chest of drawers. Chest o' drawers, SAM! (To Paterfamilias.) Would you mind standing a inch or so aside, Sir? Thanks! There they are, Ladies and Gentlemen, open to hinspection, and warranted to bear it. An unusually excellent lot, fit for the sleeping-apartment of a prince, at a price within the means of a pork-butcher. (Laughter.) Oh, it's righteous, Gents. No 'umbug about me. There's quality, if you like. Well worth a ten-pun note. What shall I have the pleasure of saying for this very superior article? 'Ow much for the chest o' drawers? Who bids for the ma'ogany chest? Thirty shillings. Thank you, Sir! Any advance on thirty shillings? Thirty-five! And six! Thirty-five-and-six for this very desirable little lot! Worth five times the amount, Ladies, as you know! What do you think. Mum? [To Materfamilias, who smiles vaguely, and looks at her husband.

Paterfamilias. Two pounds! [Feels he has made an impression.

Auctioneer. Two pounds! (Confidentially to P.) Your good lady knows a good bit o' stuff when she sees it, Sir! Two pounds for the chest! Two pounds! Any advance on a couple o' pounds? All done at two pounds? Going at two pounds! (Meeting silence, pretends to hear another bid). Two-pun-ten! Quite right, Sir! Very foolish to lose such a superior harticle for a pound or two. Going at two-pun-ten! Larst time, two-pun ten! Going—going—g—

Paterfamilias (hastily). Two-fifteen!

Auctioneer (cheerily). Two-fifteen! (Taking other imaginary bids.) Three-pounds! Three-five! (Thank you, Madam). Three-ten! Going at three-ten! Last time, three-ten! (To Paterfamilias.) Are you going to lose it, Sir? Worth double, I assure you! Ask your good lady!

Materfamilias (aside). Bid three-fifteen, JOHN, but not a penny more!

Paterfamilias (weakly). Three-fifteen!

Auctioneer. Three-fifteen! Four! Going at four! Last time at four! All done, four! Going, going—gone! (Drops hammer.) Sold at four pounds, SAM! (Looks round.) Who bid four? [No response, as the last bid was imaginary.

Sam (huskily). Gen'l'man as bid four jest slipped hout, Sir.

Auctioneer (tartly). Tut—tut—tut! Too bad, really. Well, Sir, then I must take your bid. Sold to this Gentleman, SAM, at Three-fifteen!

[Paterfamilias, highly pleased, pays deposit, and arranges to send for his bargain in the morning. As he and his "good lady" leave, they notice close by, three men with barrows, each bearing a blazingly red and strongly-smelling chest of drawers. Materfamilias complacently remarks on the manifest superiority of the article they have purchased, to "that red rubbish." Next morning they receive, instead of their own "bargain," one of those identical brand-new, badly-made, unseasoned, thinly-veneered "shop 'uns," which are "blown together" by the gross for such purposes. They protest, but vainly, notwithstanding their true assertion that the drawers they received contain "fresh shavings" instead of the "sprigs of blooming lavender" they had observed in those they thought they had purchased. Paterfamilias, a week later, looking in at the Auction-room, sees what he could swear to be the very chest of drawers he had purchased being "sold again" in a similar fashion.

"MY PRETTY JANUS, OH NEVER LOOK SO SHY!"

JANUS DRURIOLANUS. Suggestion for Costume at another Masked Ball.

AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS