it. Thus when we see the English Illustrated in volume we are fully able to estimate its worth. The present volume is in every way equal to its predecessors. Volume Fourteen of St. Nicholas is one of those good gifts that Brother Jonathan sends us. It is a delightful collection of child-poems, child-pictures, and child-lore. The editor, Miss Mary Mapes Dodge knows full well how difficult it is to please those keen critics, the children, but she has "dodged" it.

The Mac Battenberg.—Mr. Punch is delighted to hear that mother and child are doing well, and congratulates the Infant Princess on being the first of the Royal Family to be born in Scotland since 1600. Could not the next be born in Ireland? "The O'Battenberg," would be a splendid title.

Latest From Lichfield.—Dr. Johnson loved "a good hater." He ought to have flourished next year—Hatey-hate! Ha! ha!

"EMPLOYMENT."

First Loafer. "'Say, Mate, if they was to put a Shovel in yer 'Ands, an' tell yer to go to Work, would yer take it?"

Second Loafer. "'Course I would."

First Loafer. "Would yer Use it?"

Second Loafer. "'Course I would?—like a Shot! I'd Spout it!"

ROBERT ON LUXURY.

Alderman Sir Renery Knight, late Lord Mare, and one of the werry best as we ever had, and so was his good wife, the Lady Maress, hapening for to be a setting at the Manshun House when the Lord Mare was gorn out for a ride somewheres, had to receive what I thinks is called a Deputytashun—though not a bit like reel Deputys, who is all werry rich—of poor working-men as ain't got not no work to do, and, like the kind gennelman as he is, he gave 'em sum such capital adwice as to the utter stoopidity of making theirselves noisy and disagreeable when they wants to make people kindly dispoged towards 'em, and as to the well-known fackt, that the best friends of the working-classes is them as spends their money the most freest and the most liberalist, that he set the hole City a ringing with it, and as always happens alike in exacly similar cases, up starts a mere upstart of a Pollytickle Economist—how I hates the werry sound of that larst word, which is ony another name for stingyness and meanness and sham forgitfulness of the pore Waiter—and says as it ain't true! Like his imperance I think, but of coarse ewery body has a right to his own opinion, however ridicklus it may be. But being a Lecturer, and therefore I spose acustomed to use his tung pretty freely, he mite have been xpected to have kept a civil one in his head when he rote his reply to Sir Renery. Instead of which he fust calls him incorrygible, which I beleeve means that he carnt be conwicted, as if a Alderman and Magistrate could be! He then writes of his "Colossal ignorance!" I don't quite know what it means but I'm quite sure that however small the Alderman's may be, the Lecturer's is ever so much bigger, as I'll prove from my own pussonal knowledge.

He acshally has the ordassity to adwise the Rite Honerable the Lord Mare not to employ so many cooks! Poor hignoramus! has he ever dined at the Manshun House on a trewly grate ocashun? Most suttenly not, or he never would have written such a silly, not to say cruel sentence. Not so many cooks indeed! Does he think that the Chef who has given his whole mind to the preparing of the Thick and Clear Turtle, is not so utterly xhausted that he has to drink two or three glasses of werry old Madeary, and then lay down on his sophy and recover hisself by slow degrees. Does he think that the Fish Cooks, with praps six differing kinds of Fish to prepare, is fit for anything else? and how about the Sauce Artists, let him try to emagine, tho' he'll try in wain, what they has to go through in the tasting line. Then there are the French gentlemen who superintend the production of those wunders in what they calls the guestronommick line, wiz.: the Ontrays! Is it supposed by this "curlossal" hignoramus, that they can, after achieving brilliant success in these wunders of hart, condescend to turn their attention to such werry small deer as poultry and jints? Suttenly not, the thing's absurd. But they requires cooks, tho' of coarse, not of the same hi horder as the Hartists.

But, strange to tell, ewen this is not the wust. Not only is the Lord Mare adwised not to employ so many Cooks, but the trewly wunderful reason is given, becoz he can then employ more railway navvies! Shades of Frank Hurtelly and Swoyhay, rest tranquil in your long graves!

But what a dedly hinsult to one of the werry noblest of all noble perfessions, to compare for usefulness a mere railway navvy to a great Chef. Is this strange economist aware that the great Earl of Sefton, prais to his memory! used to allow his Chef £300 a year and a Horse and Broom for the Park! But all sitch conclusive arguments is I fear utterly lost upon him.

However, there is just one matter for which I have to thank him. I confess that my face werry possibly turned gashly pale as I read his orful letter, I fornatrally thort if he is going to recommend less Cooks he may werry posserbly be a going for to recommend less Waiters! But no, he had the good taste to draw his line there, and for that I thanks him. What a treat it is to turn from the wild projecks of the Lecterer to the wise counsels of the Alderman. No doubt, he says, we could all do without luxuries, but what would become of the millions who produces them? No doubt, he says, we could all live on plain food and drink water—what orful words for a Alderman to write down!—but then what would become of the millions who earns their living in preparing them, and he might have added, as a clencher to his staggering argument, and what would become of Hus? If there is one picter that presents itself to my orrified imagination, that more than any other staggers it, it is that of the hole splendid Army of London Waiters, with their full dress black coats a gitting jist a leetle shabby, and their lovely white chokers jest a leetle shady, a parading the London Streets, and a singing in Chorus, "We've got no work to do!" But no, I feels as that orful dream will never live to be realised, but, to use the classic langwidge as the Lecturer quotes from some frend of his, and which I supposes as he intends as a complement, "let the idol rich still take their proper place as drones in the hive, gorging at a feast to which they have contributed nothing," and he might have added, and never never forgetting the Waiter.

Robert.

Mr. Punch was pleased to notice that a certain noisy Salvationist, who would insist on playing the cornet—did he profanely call it "The horn of salvation?"—to the disturbance of quiet citizens, was made to move on, and treated as a common street-organ nuisance by the Magistrate. Wanted, as soon as possible, an Act to stop all unauthorised Processions, be they what they may.

The disastrous fire at