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Page 11
* * * * *
FUTURE LEGISLATION FOR NEXT SESSION.--Mr. GLADSTONE will introduce a
Bill to render criminal the keeping of heifers loose in a field.
* * * * *
BY A PARAGRAPHIC JOURNALIST.--Very natural that there should be "pars"
about "Mars."
* * * * *
"SIGNAL FAILURES."--Most Railway Accidents.
* * * * *
[Illustration: CULTURE BY THE SEA.
"HAVE YOU BROWNING'S WORKS?"
"NO, MISS. THEY'RE TOO DIFFICULT. PEOPLE DOWN HERE DON'T UNDERSTAND
THEM."
"HAVE YOU _PRAED_?"
"PRAYED, MISS? OH YES; WE'VE TRIED THAT, BUT IT'S NO USE!"]
* * * * *
THE CH�TEAU D'"IF."
The Castle that I sing, is not
The strong-hold _pr�s Marseilles_,
Where _Monte Christo_ brewed his plot
For DUMAS' magic tale:
It's one we all inhabit oft,
The residence of most,
And not peculiar to the soft,
Mediterranean coast.
The Castle "If"--If pigs had wings,
If wishes horses were,
If, rather more substantial things,
My Castles in the air;
If balances but grew on Banks,
If Brokers hated "bluff;"
If Editors refrained from thanks
And printed all my stuff.
If holidays were not a time
Beyond a chap's control,
When someone else prescribes how I'm
To bore my selfish soul;
If bags and boxes packed themselves
For one who packing loathes;
If babes, expensive little elves,
Were only born with clothes
If _Bradshaw_ drove me to the train!
Were _mal-de-mer_ a name!
If organ-grinders ground a strain
That never, never came;
If oysters stuck at eighteen pence;
If ladies loathed "The Stores;"
If Tax-collectors had the sense
To overlook my doors!
If sermons stopped themselves to suit
A congregation's pain;
If everyone who played the flute
Were sentenced to be slain;
If larks with truffles sang on trees,
If cooks were made in heaven;
And if, at sea-side spots, the seas
Shut up from nine till seven.
If _I_ might photograph the fiend
Who mauls me with his lens,
If supercilious barbers leaned
Their heads for _me_ to cleanse!
If weather blushed to wreck my plans,
If tops were never twirled;
If "Ifs and ands were pots and pans,"--
'Twould be a pleasant world!
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