half millions of which will be devoted to prizes."—Daily Telegraph Berlin Correspondent.]

LIVE AND LEARN.—Mr. PARKINSON will now probably admit that the foolish process known as "breaking a butterfly on a wheel" may bring the breaker woe.

SHAKSPEARE AND NORTH, NOT CHRISTOPHER.

C-l-n-l N-rth as Falstaff.

L-rd C-l-r-dge as Lord Chief Justice.

Henry the Fourth, Part II., Act ii., Sc.

Colonel NORTH is popularly supposed to have been the architect of his own fortune, but he doesn't seem to have profited much by his architectural knowledge when applied to house-building. The burly Colonel—we forget at this moment what regiment is under his distinguished command—has met many a great personage in his time, but, like the eminent barbarian who encountered a Christian Archbishop for the first time—St. Ambrose, we rather think it was, but no matter—our bold Colonel had to climb down a bit on coming face to face with the Lord Chief Justice of England. What a cast for a scene out of Henry the Fourth! Falstaff, Colonel NORTH, and My Lord COLERIDGE for the Lord Chief Justice. The scene might be Part II., Act ii., Scene 1, when the Lord Chief says to Sir John, "You speak as having power to do wrong; but answer, in the effect of your reputation, and satisfy the poor woman,"—only for "woman," read "architect." Curious that the name of GAMBLE should be the pre-surname of Mister Colonel NORTH'S brother. What's in a name? Yet there's a good deal in the sound and look of GAMBLE NORTH, especially when up before the Lord Chief, who must quite recently have got hold of quite a little library of useful knowledge. Also odd that most of Mr. NORTH'S money seems to have been made in the South. But "A 1," that is, the architect, won, and the gallant Mister Colonel, or Colonel Mister, left the Court, feeling comparatively A-Norther man. Never mind, even the Millionairey Colonel can't always be lucky.

MR. PUNCH'S QUOTATION BOOK.

I.—FOR INFERIOR CHAMPAGNE.

II.—FOR MR. GLADSTONE.

III.—FOR THE NEW BISHOP OF LICHFIELD.

"Gaiter.—A covering for the leg."—ENGLISH DICTIONARY.

IV.—FOR A TENNIS-PLAYER, IMPRISONED BY BAD WEATHER.

"They also serve who only stand and wait."—MILTON.

AT ST. JAMES'S HALL.—Hair PADDY REWSKI is a pianofortist up to the time and tune of day. Knowing that L'Enfant Prodigue is now all the go, he keeps himself up to date by performing the Musical Prodigy Son's, I mean MENDELSSOHN'S "Songs without Words;" and this so effectively, that the last wordless song he was obliged to repeat, and much obliged the audience by repeating. Then the good fellar played La Campanella, Which I prefer to Gentle Zitella, The Princess LOUISE, &c., were there, and "&c." was really looking uncommonly well considering the heat. Bravo, PADDY REWSKI! Ould Ireland for ever!

OFF TO MASHERLAND.

(By Our Own Grandolph.)

(FIRST LETTER—A.)

1.—From Paddington to the first comma is a comparatively slight stop.

Left Paddington. Was compelled to leave Paddington, as train started from that station. "The Great Western!" What boundless ideas are suggested by this title, &c., &c. (This part I'll send to Daily Graphic.)

REASONS FOR THE JOURNEY.

Well, never mind my reasons. I had made up my mind to go. That's enough. "Marlbrook s'en va t'en guerre," mais as MARLBROOK Junior I may say, "Je reviendrai." Politics to the winds! or, colloquially, Politics be blowed! I'm off to TOM TIDDLER'S ground. Nice fellow, TIDDLER. Knew him years ago. He is now a Limited Company, "TIDDLER & Co."

THE COMPOSITION OF THE PARTY.

Well, you know what it was once upon a time. There was A BALFOUR—beg pardon, should say, THE BALFOUR—and DRUMMY WOLFFY, and De GORSTIBUS non disputandum ("no arguing with GORST"), and self. As good a quartette, though I say it who shouldn't, as ever sat down to a concerted piece, with myself as First Fiddle. But now—"Where am dat barty now?"—I don't know if I quote correctly; quoting correctly is not my forte. "Dat barty," suggests WOLFF; he was the "barty" of our party, in the merry days of old. Now—none of 'em here, and I with my ink-stand before me, a pencil, a pen, note-books galore, and any amount of foolscap, represent "the composition" of our party. I must get on with my "compo." Is reminds me of doing a "Theme" at Eton. This is a holiday task. One, two, three, off!—and away!

ALL ABROAD.

Before I know where we are, so to speak, we have left London, and are at Lisbon. On the voyage Captain G. WILLIAMS suggests these lines, to which I append my own translation. BALFOUR rather behind me in Latin at Eton (I hear by private wire that he admitted as much in his recent speech at the fourth centenary celebration), and so, perhaps, couldn't give the translation as easily as I do. Here is the Captain's reminiscence, and my translation when he isn't looking:—

Which translated means:—

He, the Englishman (Angulus), beside me (that is, "sitting on deck by my side") laughs at all people on shore when he is quite certain (certat) that he can't get good tobacco from VENAFER'S (a local tobacconist). (This) man prefers the long clay pipe, which gets so soon hot, for, by Jove, you'll burn yourself (brumas), and being a friend of AULON'S ("all on," local joke), he envies those who can smoke the green tobacco, and doesn't wonder that they go in for Falernian (classic metaphor for Cape wine).

I think that's pretty good for an old Etonian who could give BALFOUR (the "Four" of the Fourth Party, a four-oar without a steerer) a mile over any course of VIRGIL or OVID, and beat him easily.

WHERE ARE WE NOW?