class="c6" id="pgepubid00026">President H-rr-s-n to King H-mb-rt.

You want ready cash. We want Coliseum. Why not strike bargain? Syndicate offers five million dollars. Useful for your next Budget. You can remit no end of taxes. People sure to like that.

King H-mb-rt to President H-rr-s-n.

Couldn't let it go so cheap. Have you thought of Parthenon? Greek Government might part with it as a loan, on reasonable terms.

President H-rr-s-n to King H-mb-rt.

Thanks for suggesting Parthenon. Chicago Syndicate thinks it's not good enough. Couldn't bring in the Lions and Martyrs very well. Also Parthenon by moonlight not such a safe draw as Coliseum.

King H-mb-rt to President H-rr-s-n.

Might think of it if you increased offer to ten million dollars, and would promise to return it within two years, in good repair, fair wear and tear alone excepted.

President H-rr-s-n to King H-mb-rt.

Syndicate says if they have to pay so much for Coliseum, and return it, they must have remains of Forum thrown in.

King H-mb-rt to President H-rr-s-n.

Don't think we could spare ruins of Forum. Have you thought of Vatican? We could easily spare that. Why not approach the POPE on the subject?

President H-rr-s-n to King H-mb-rt.

No, thanks! Sorry to have troubled you for nothing, but Syndicate has now arranged to build a Coliseum of its own, double the size of yours, and to reproduce Forum, Parthenon, Capitol, Vatican, as well as Windsor Castle and Westminster Abbey, out of old brown paper, compressed and hardened by a new process. Ta-ta for present! Hope you'll get over next Budget all right.

THINGS ONE WOULD(N'T) RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.

(In Mrs. Talbot de Vere Skynflynte's Drawing-Room, after one of her grand Dinner-Parties where nobody gets enough to eat.)
General Guzzleton. "WHAT'S THAT? TEA? NO, THANKS. I NEVER TAKE TEA UNLESS I'VE DINED!"

ALL ADRIFT; OR, THREE MEN IN A PUNT.

["The uncertainty as to the course of business, justifies, to a certain extent, the criticisms of Sir WILLIAM HARCOURT and Mr. LABOUCHERE, upon the proceedings of the Government."—The Times.]

B-lf-r. Humph! Shifting ground again! I did think we were in for a quiet swim and good sport.

Yes, that's all very fine, IZAAK. But it depends upon your pitch—and your companions. I say, G-SCH-N, what are you up to? Don't let the punt swing round like that, man, I was nearly over, and my tackle's fouled.

G-sch-n (struggling with pole). All very well for you to sit coolly there and criticise me, ARTHUR! Wh-o-o-of! Confound the punt, it's all over the place, and the stream's like a mill-race.

B-lf-r. Well, hold on to the pole, JOKIM, or we shall be all adrift. We'd better have kept to our first pitch; it was quiet there, and we hooked one or two sizeable ones. (Aside.) Fact is, you're such a fidget, you lose your fish, and then want to change the pitch.

G-sch-n (aside). That's right, grumble, grumble! Dawdling duffer, he sprawls across the well in one of his infernal æsthetic attitudes, picks the best swim, and girds at us who have to handle the poles. Wonder SM-TH stands it.

Sm-th (aside). Well, it's a good job I'm back in the punt. G-SCH-N may be all very well at a right-away race in a wager-boat, when the money's on, and I've seen him do a decent bit of bank-fishing in a pegged-down match; but he doesn't shine as a punter, though he fancies himself a second ABEL BEASLEY. (Aloud.) Hitch on that chain, JOKIM!

G-sch-n (blowing). Hang it, I can't.

[Punt oscillates dangerously, nearly tipping over B-LF-R's chair, and making his rod wobble.

B-lf-r. For Heaven's sake, G-SCH-N, mind what you're up to! My hook's foul in a snag, and you've nearly snapped my top-joint.

G-sch-n. Well, wind up, then!

B-lf-r (muttering, and wrestling with his rod). All very well, man, but I've got to get clear first. Keep her still a minute, do.

[G-SCH-N "holds on" till he gets red in the face, whilst B-LF-R tugs at his tackle.

Sm-th (shoving strenuously). My duty—to my—pals and punt—must be done—at any cost; but if this is—"the contemplative man's recreation,"—give me a hammock at Greenlands! (Puffs and blows. Aloud.) Are you all right, there, G-SCH-N?

G-sch-n (petulantly). All right be blowed! What are you up to?

Sm-th (mildly). Trying to keep you straight, of course, my dear boy?

G-sch-n. Oh! I like that!

B-lf-r (working away at his winch). Humph! We've stirred up a quiet swim, wasted a lot of ground-bait, lost several fish, and—now where are we?

Sm-th. Look out, G-SCH-N! We shall be foul of that awkward snag if we're not careful! Let's settle down here.

G-sch-n (stabbing wildly with his pole). All very well—but I can't find bottom that will hold. Shove, SM-TH, and keep your end up!

Sm-th. Just what I'm trying to do. [Pushes gallantly.

B-lf-r. Nice chance for hooking 'em after this infernal stir-up! Take me half an hour to get my tackle out of tangle, and then it'll be close on to shutting-up time. One big 'un and two or three little ones not much to return with. Look at those impudent young rascals chyiking us from the banks! Oh, for heaven's sake, you fellows, get her fixed!

Sm-th. Hear the weir roaring, G-SCH-N? We're getting too near "Danger," dear boy. That's right, you've got ground there. Now, then hold her up! hold her up!

G-sch-n (a tip-toe, and at an angle). Dash it, how she drags! I was all but over! Come up! There, SM-TH, shove her up sharp, or I shall be off, or lose the pole!

Sm-th (shoving his hardest). All right! Shove it is!! Hold on, G-SCH-N,—I'm here!!!

Rude Boys (from the bank). Yah—Boo! Better git out and walk, and let hus pole that punt for yer?

ALL ADRIFT!

W.H. SMITH. "HOLD ON, GOSCHEN. I'M HERE!!"

CHILD'S CHIT-CHAT.

(Possibly written for proposed insertion in certain of Mr. Punch's Feminine Contemporaries.)

Dearest LENA,—We are now back from Herne Bay, where, staying at Mrs. ——'s¹ Boarding House, we met some of the smartest people. If ever you visit this delightful watering-place, mind you look Mrs.