"The Balcony Nuisance!" Without some explanation the drawing that follows this title would be perfectly incomprehensible. How, in the name of common-sense, of propriety, or of justice, can the word "nuisance" be applicable to the occupants of that balcony? Well, it is in this wise: A correspondent of the _Month_, who signs himself "Narcissus," lives in a suburban square, from which he indites a remarkable letter. According to "Narcissus," suburban squares are famous for the production of vast numbers of "single ladies." He calls his square a "realm of girldom," the proportion of the belles being very great over the marriageable young men, and therefore they watch with keen eyes for any new flirtations. "And now," said he, "comes my complaint. I cannot call at any house where there are daughters but, the instant I knock, every balcony near me is filled with waves of rustling muslin, and a dozen pairs of bright eyes are on the _qui vive_ for every movement or expression. I need not say how annoying this is." [Illustration: THE BALCONY NUISANCE.] I see no trace of annoyance in the simpering buck who is the cynosure of all eyes in the drawing. Leech evidently saw through the affectation of annoyance, and depicted the Narcissus mind in its real condition of gratified conceit. The _Month's_ October issue contains a good deal of Leech's work. The number contains a "Belle of the Month," but she is so inferior in attractiveness to her sisters that I am ungallant enough to pass her by. I find, however, a pretty musical group entitled "Pestal." In 1851 Mr. Albert Smith says that Pestal, who was a Russian officer, was imprisoned for marrying without the consent of his Sovereign, and "cast for death." Of course, though, according to Mr. Smith, this unfortunate man may have been a "Pestal-ent person," we are not expected to believe the crime for which he was executed was only that of neglecting to ask the Czar's consent to his marriage. "On the eve of his execution, as he lay _ironed_, awaiting the next morning's _mangling_," continues the inveterate punster, "in a happy moment of enthusiasm, he composed the waltz that bears his name." The pretty music seems to have sentimentalized the handsome youth, and drawn him closer to the performer, who is one of those sweet creatures with whom the artist has made us so familiar. I cannot refrain from presenting my readers with an example of the _poetry_ that adorns the _Month_, so that they may be convinced of the propriety of giving them as little of it as possible. Forty-one verses, of which the two following are fair examples, accompany the drawing called Pestal: "In London, as usual, last season I spent, To Pocklington Square my notes were addressed all, And wherever I rambled or wandered or went, I was pestered with that horrid pest of a 'Pestal.'