enthusiastic class of the community. At recitations you might hear—

In sequence to these effusions, LEGION poured forth Ballades, and Rondeaux, and wrote a Chant Royal on a General Election which occupied a whole column of a newspaper, and needed three men to read, with a boy for the "envoy." But this ditty was not thought to have seriously affected the voting classes in any direction. LEGION was now usually spoken of as "the versatile Mr. LEGION," a compliment which never failed to annoy him hugely. Sated with popular applause, he turned into a vein of new poetry, and produced The Song of the Spud, which, his admirers averred was "racy of the soil." A grand English Opera, on the Pilgrimage of Grace, was performed, at immense expense, LEGION being the Librettist. It was patriotic, but not exactly popular. Still, with all these claims on his country, LEGION lived in hopes which were wofully disappointed; for, when his chance came at last, a Prime Minister of modern ideas declared that, as a Laureate is not useful, he must be ornamental. Now, neither LEGION, nor any of his rivals, could be called decorative, whatever they might have been in their youth. They needed laurels, for the same reason as JULIUS CÆSAR. The wreath was therefore offered (by a Plébiscite conducted in a newspaper) to the young Lady-poet whose verses and photograph secured the greatest number of votes; the Laureate, in every case, to resign, on attaining her twenty-fifth birthday. The beautiful and accomplished Mrs. JINGLEY JONES triumphed in this truly modern competition, and her book was rushed into a sale of two hundred and fifty copies. After this check the writing of poetry ceased to attract male enterprise—to the extreme joy of Publishers and Reviewers; though the market for waste-paper received a shock from which it never rallied. The youthful male population of England determined never to become Poets, unless they were born Poets, a resolution on which, at all times, a minority of the race had acted, with the best results.

Mr. J.L. "Walker" Toole and "Full Company."

"NOTES AND PAPER."—There is a lot of "paper" about from "Walker—London." No, Mr. JOHNNIE TOOLE, Sir, not your "paper," for your House is crammed and your "paper" is at a premium. But this particular WALKER, of Warwick House, London, sends forth "Society Stationery"—"which," as Mrs. Gamp would have said, "spelling of it with an 'a' instead of an 'e,' Society never is." Among the lot there's an "Antique Society Paper," which should be a Society Paper as old as the world itself, or it might be used by a Fossilised Fogey Club. WALKER & Co.'s new "Society Paper," whether antique or modern, is pretty and quite harmless—till pen and ink are at work on it; and then—but that's another story.

COSTS AS THEY ARE AND WILL BE.

(Two Scenes from a Farcical Tragedy showing that some of the Judges' recommendations might be adopted immediately.)

THE PRESENT (as they are). SCENE—Solicitor's Private Room. Solicitor awaiting wealthy Client. Clerk in attendance.