AT A CHILDREN'S PARTY.
DURING TEA.

YES, isn't it a pretty sight. Oh, they're much too busy to talk at present. Well, if you would take this cup of tea to my little girl, dear Mr. Muffett, it would be so- Yes, in the white frock. ... Pray don't apologise-some tea upsets so easily, doesn't it?... Oh! I don't suppose it will show, really, and if it does. Please, will everybody keep quite quiet for

a minute or two; I haven't said my grace. out. Throw it into the fire, quick!..
Don't you think it's unfair of Nurse? It doesn't matter in the least. No; I
She's handed me bread and butter twice wouldn't trouble about the other shades,
running! . . . I mustn't eat sponge-cake, thanks. . . . Mother, will you read me the
thank you. Bath buns are better for me text out of my cracker?... But if you're
than anything. I was so ill after going to be a soldier, you oughtn't to shut
Christmas. They took my temperament your eyes when you pull a cracker.
with the barometer, and it was two hun- Oh! when I'm a soldier, I needn't go to
dred and six! Oh that's nothing. parties.
When I was ill, the doctor said mine was
perfectly Norman!... Well, you might
lower that candleshade a very little, per-
haps, Mr. Muffett. . . . Ah! don't blow it

RIDDLES OF THE YEAR.-Why follow fashion when it clashes with your ta and inclination?

Shopwalker. "ANYTHING ELSE WE CAN HAVE THE PLEASURE OF SHOWING YOU, MADAM?"

MERRY ENGLAND-A Jester's Jubilee Sermon.

"SAINT GEORGE and Merrie England!" was the warrior-cry of
old,
Which fired the fair and gentle, and aroused the brave and bold;
And the shout of "Merry England!" should uplift the heart
to-day

Of all true, gallant Britons who in face of fate are gay.
"Merry England!" In the greenwood, where the jovial archer
drew

A sturdy bow strong-fashioned from the stubborn English yew,
Where the laugh rang out gay chorus to the cheerful hunting
horn,

And men could fight or frolic, was that joyous spirit born.
Merry England!" When our Shakspeare, in the days of stout
Queen Bess,
When the English lip was mirth-wreathed in the sternest battle
press,

Limned the gay Prince Hal whose laughter at Falstaffian
humours turned

To the set teeth of the hero when the fire of onset burned,
Then, good faith! 'twas Merry England, when intrepid Drake
could play

His merry game of bowls out as fit prelude to the fray;
And Raleigh's bearded lip could curl in laughter at the jest,
Though the Don was on the sea-ways and wild war was in the
West.

Paterfamilias. "THE DOOR!"

And now, although Victoria the Gentle sways the land,
Instead of Bess the Bellicose, and England, heart and hand,
Sixty years of peace and progress on her Diamond Jubilee
Celebrates in sober gratitude, shall good old English glee,
The glad mirth of Merry England be forgotten? Nay, not so!
Mr. Punch's half a century of laughter answers, No!
Merry England let it be, boys! Must the fortunes of John Bull
Be, as pundits oft describe our British weather, "fine, but dull"?
No; let the British laugh ring forth amidst the British cheers
Which congratulate Victoria on her prosperous Sixty Years!
Old England's wealth's not everything, her heart's not in her
Coffers chock full with empty soul may well become a curse;
And power and prosperity may make a galling yoke
To the breast that knows not feeling, and the brain that cannot
joke.

purse;

Not the chuckle of the cynic, not the smirk of the sham saint,
Not the grin of him who's victim to our age's huckster taint,
But sound old English merriment, the brave old British mirth,
As refreshing to tired spirits as Spring rains to the parched
earth,

Is what Punch, the Jubilee Jester, would encourage in the
throng.

It is a year for gratitude, pious praise and loyal song;
Let the memory of the Jubilee for ever be kept green,
It still is Merry England that now shouts God вате the
Queen!"

UNCLE GEORGE, JUST RETURNED FROM A MORNING'S FISHING, RECOUNTS HOW HE LANDED SOME OF THE MOST MAGNIFICENT TROUT EVER TAKEN IN THESE WATERS," AND HIS AUDIENCE ANTICIPATE MUCH SATISFACTION FROM THE CONTENTS OF HIS BASKET.