purchase, offers for sale, on very low terms, about six dozen of prime port wine, late the property of a gentleman forty years of age, full in the body and with a high bouquet.” The lady spoken of in the following would meet with some attention from the renowned Barnum: “To be sold cheap, a splendid grey horse, calculated for a charger, or would carry a lady with a switch tail.” But she would find a formidable rival in the gentleman whose advertisement we place as near as possible, so as to make a pair: “To be sold cheap, a mail phaeton, the property of a gentleman with a moveable head, as good as new.” Students of vivisection, and lovers of natural history generally, would have been glad to meet with this specimen of life after decapitation: “Ten shillings reward--Lost by a gentleman, a white terrier dog, except the head, which is black.” And as congenial company we append this: “To be sold, an Erard grand piano, the property of a lady, about to travel in a walnut wood case with carved legs.” Differing somewhat, though still of the same kind, is the advertisement of a governess, who, among other things, notifies that “she is a perfect mistress of her own tongue.” If she means what she says, she deserves a good situation and a high rate of wages. An anecdote is told of a wealthy widow who advertised for an agent, and, owing to a printer’s error, which made it “a gent,” she was inundated with applications by letter, and pestered by personal attentions. This story requires, however, a little assistance, and may be taken for what it is worth. Not long ago, a morning paper contained an announcement that a lady going abroad would give “a medical man” £100 a year to look after “a favourite spaniel dog” during her absence. This may not be funny, but it is certainly curious, and in these days, when starvation and misery are rampant, when men are to be found who out of sheer love kill their children rather than trust them to the tender mercies of the parish officials, and when these same officials are proved guilty of constructive homicide, it is indeed noticeable. A kindred advertisement, also real and unexaggerated, asks for “an accomplished poodle nurse. Wages £1 per week.” This has double claims upon our attention here, for in addition to the amount offered for such work, there is a doubt as to the actual thing required. Is it a nurse for accomplished poodles, or an accomplished nurse? And, if the latter, what in the name of goodness and common sense is accomplishment at such work? Do poodles require peculiar nursery rhymes and lullabies, or are they nursed, as a vulgar error has it about West-country babies, head downwards? This is not the exact expression used with regard to the infants; but it will do. We will conclude this short list of peculiarities with two which deserve notice. The first is the notice of a marriage, which ends, “No cards, no cake, no wine.” This is evidently intended for friends other than those “at a