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Page 11
* * * * *
ANECDOTAGE.--Said the Old Parliamentary Hand, entering Christ Church,
"I prefer _this_ House to the other!" It was _the_ success of the
visit.
* * * * *
[Illustration: A COOL HAND.
_Irrepressible Pupil_. "Poor Stuff, Sir, this Virgil. Don't you think
so?"
_Suffering Coach_ (_who can scarcely believe his ears_). "Poor Stuff,
Sir! Virgil--poor Stuff! _What do you mean_?"
_Irrepressible Pupil_ (_unmoved_). "Seems to me, Sir, it's merely a
Literal Translation of some of the best English Cribs!"]
* * * * *
LES ENFANTS TERRIBLES!
["It is to be sincerely hoped that there is no truth in
the rumour that a paper for children will shortly make its
appearance, entirely written and illustrated by children under
fifteen years of age."--_St. James's Gazette, October 12th._]
Why, churlish critic, do you hope sincerely
The rumour, which you mention, is untrue?
Mere prejudice makes you regard severely
The cause of liberty which we pursue.
We are, _The Prattler_ will establish clearly,
Quite competent to edit a review;
The age of greatest wisdom will be seen
To be decidedly below fifteen.
_We_ never showed, as we need hardly mention,
That fabled ignorance about the stars,
From earliest days we spoke about 'declension,'
And argued on the atmosphere of Mars;
While parents we put up with, more attention
We paid towards another kind of "pars.";
Full soon was lit the journalistic flame,--
We lisped in leaders, for the leaders came.
That foolish custom, which, at present smothers
Our youthful genius, we shall supersede.
Here are some papers which, with many others,
Will make _The Prattler_ eminent indeed;--
A series on "The Management of Mothers,"
Will meet, we hope, a long-experienced need;
Elsewhere we'll note, in some attractive way,
The latest long-clothes fashion of the day.
Instruction in the art of window-breaking,
And modes to tame a fiery governess,
Descriptions of perambulator-making--
No need on details to lay further stress,
You'll own our journalistic undertaking,
Must prove an unequivocal success;
While you, who uttered this untimely sneer,
Will blush, apologise, and disappear!
* * * * *
MY FIRST BRIEF.
[Illustration]
When you, my first brief, were delivered,
Every fibre in me quivered
With delight. I seemed to see
Myself admitted a Q.C.;
Piles of briefs upon the table,
More work to do than I was able;
Clients scrambling for advice,
Then LORD CHANCELLOR in a trice.
I seized my virgin pencil blue,
Marked and perused you through and through.
The story brief, instructions short,
Defendant in a County Court,
It needed not an ounce of sense
To see that you had no defence.
But, erudite in English law,
I fashioned bricks without the straw.
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