Mr. Rawlinson: Fashionable, indeed! I wish, with all my heart, that the fashion was discontinued. Why need an Englishman make a Jew of himself? It is disgusting to see persons strutting through the streets with mustachios, and, sometimes, a fringe of hair round the face and chin, which is dignified by the name of whiskers. As you won’t take my advice, I can’t assist you. Applicant: Vot! not for striking me on the hupper lip? Mr. Rawlinson: Then your mustachios must have saved you. Applicant: No, they didn’t. Mr. Rawlinson: How’s that? Applicant: ’Cos the hair ain’t long and thick enough; they’re only young ’uns as yet. There was no occasion to strike me. Mr. Rawlinson: And there’s no occasion for you to wear mustachios. You may have a warrant, if you like, but I think you had better not. The man with mustachios then withdrew. The late King’s stud at Hampton was doomed to be sold, and the sale thereof created something of a sensation. On this subject there is, in a little twopenny weekly magazine, called _The Torch_, 9 Sep., ’37 (vol. i., p. 19), a periodical now long forgotten, a poem by Tom Hood, which I have not seen in any collection of his poems. It is a PETITION TO HER MAJESTY FOR PRESERVING THE ROYAL STUD AT HAMPTON COURT. BY THOMAS HOOD. I. LIEGE LADY, all the nation’s in high dud- geon that Lord Melbourne’s brains should be so muddy As to advise you sell your royal _stud_, Which to preserve, should be your royal study. II. Poor nags you would not in your stable find, Like cavalry of Evans called De Lacey, No! I do rather hope your royal mind Is naturally fond of something racy. III. Pray, what has Hampton done that you should trounce ill- naturedly its prancers and its sport? You have a breed of _asses_ in the _Council_, Do keep a breed of _horses_ in the _Court_. IV. His truth who says that you should sell them, fails. Believe me, Lady liege, he tells a crammer; You’ll set your people biting all their _nails_, If you put up your horses to the _hammer_. V. I like these money-turning Whigs, indeed; Who, into coin, change everything they’re able. You’re just installed, and they would sell _the steed_, It doesn’t make me think they’re very _stable_. VI. I daresay they believe they’re very knowing, I think they’re close to their official shelves: And, when they set the horses “Going, going,” It’s nearly time they should be gone themselves. VII.