[Illustration: _A SUBJECT FOR SYMPATHY._ DISTRESSING POSITION OF CHARLES, WHO DOES NOT FEEL WELL, AND WHO IS KEENLY ALIVE TO THE FACT THAT AMY IS LOOKING AT HIM THROUGH HER OPERA-GLASS.] [Illustration: _LITTLE DUCKS._ _Georgy._ "THERE NOW, CLARA--I CALL IT VERY PEEVISH OF YOU. YOU PROMISED ME, IF I LET YOU GO IN FIRST, THAT YOU WOULDN'T BE LONG, AND I DECLARE YOU HAVE BEEN EXACTLY AN HOUR AND TWENTY MINUTES." [_Pouts._ ] [Illustration: _SOLICITUDE._ _Wife._ "NOW PROMISE ME ONE THING, ADOLPHUS. YOU WON'T GO FLYING OVER ANY HEDGES OR FIVE-BARRED GATES?"] [Illustration: _AN UNCONSCIOUS VICTIM._ FEARFUL PRACTICAL JOKE PLAYED WITH A CHILD'S BALLOON UPON A SWELL.] [Illustration: _A HORRID BOY._ _Frank._ "OH, I SAY, EMILY! AIN'T THE SEA-SIDE JOLLY?" _Emily_ (_who is reading The Corsair to Kate_). "I DO NOT KNOW, FRANK, WHAT YOU MEAN BY JOLLY.--IT IS VERY BEAUTIFUL!--IT IS VERY LOVELY!" _Frank._ "HAH! AND DON'T IT MAKE YOU ALWAYS READY FOR YOUR GRUB, NEITHER?" [_Exit Young Ladies, very properly disgusted._ ] [Illustration: _VERY ARTFUL CONTRIVANCE._ _Clara._ "WHY, DEAR ME! WHAT DO YOU WEAR YOUR HAT IN THE WATER FOR?" _Mrs. Walrus._ "OH, I ALWAYS WEAR IT WHEN I BATHE; FOR THEN, YOU SEE, DEAR, NO ONE CAN RECOGNISE ME FROM THE BEACH!"] [Illustration: _AT THE PLAY._] [Illustration: _IN A HURRY._ _Boy._ "NOW THEN, SIR!--THE MORE YOU LOOK THE LESS YOU'LL LOIKE IT!--GET OVER, OR ELSE LET US COME!"] [Illustration: _ANGLING DELIGHTS._ ON ARRIVING AT THE BEST PART OF YOUR FISHING, YOU ARE OF COURSE CHARMED TO FIND THAT OLD MUFFINS AND HIS LITTLE BOY HAVE BEEN WHIPPING THE STREAM ALL THE AFTERNOON.] [Illustration: _THE BEARD MOVEMENT._ _Young Snobley_ (_a regular Lady-killer_). "HOW THE GIRLS DO STARE AT ONE'S BEARD! I SUPPOSE THEY THINK I'M A HORFICER JUST COME FROM THE CRIMEAR!"] [Illustration: _CONSOLATION._ _Young Snobley._ "AH, JIM! NOBLE BIRTH MUST BE A GREAT ADVANTAGE TO A COVE." _Jim_ (_one of Nature's nobility_). "H'M! P'RAPS!--BUT EGAD! PERSONAL BEAUTY AIN'T A BAD SUBSTITUTE!"] [Illustration: _AN UNDESIGNED COINCIDENCE._ TOMKINS RETIRES TO A SECLUDED VILLAGE, THAT HE MAY GROW HIS MOUSTACHES, AND SO CUT OUT HIS ODIOUS RIVAL, JONES. JONES, IT SO HAPPENS, HAS COME TO THE SAME PLACE WITH THE SAME OBJECT.--FRIGHTFUL MEETING!] [Illustration: _GOING TO THE PARK._] [Illustration: _A LITTLE SHOOTING IN IRELAND._ "NO HIT AGAIN, I'M AFRAID, TIM!" "O, NIVER MIND, YER 'ONOR! SURE, YE DO IT VERY NIST. THERE'S SOME JINTLEMEN NOW COMES, AND THEY BLAZE AWAY, AND THEY WOWNDES THE POOR BIRRDS IN THE LIGS AND THE WINGS, AND SUCH LIKE; BUT YER 'ONOR! O, YE FIRES, AND FIRES, AND _ALWAYS_ MISSES 'EM _CLANE_ AND _CLEVER_!"] [Illustration: _LITTLE DINNER AT GREENWICH._ _Fish Swell._ "HERE, WAITAW!--ARE THE WHITEMEN PRETTY GOOD?"] [Illustration: _AFTER THE BATH._] [Illustration: _POETRY AND PROSE._