Mr. Gladstone's fondness for Homer is well known, and he was doubtless one of the first to read the Laureate's lines in the _Nineteenth Century_, called "Achilles Over the Trench." This Trojan hero will now be dearer than ever to the Premier, for the Laureate's lines show him to be a man strangely after the "People's William's" own heart. Thus, it is matter of public notoriety that Mr. Gladstone thinks thrice before he makes his mind up to any great matter, and he is famed for his historic "three courses." How curious, then, to find that Achilles, too, has what may be termed a "triologic" bent of mind! Evidently it was not till he had thought thrice that he remained sulking in his tent. And when he came out and fought, we find, from Alfred Tennyson, that-- "Thrice from the dyke he sent his mighty shout, Thrice backward reel'd the Trojans and allies." The fragment of verse is incomplete, but we have little doubt that when we see it complete, we shall read something of this kind:-- "Thrice rolled his glowing eye, with fury fired, And thrice his spear leapt forward at the foe; Whilst as the sinking sun proclaimed it three, He thrice imbued it in the Trojan's blood. Then stood he where three stones were rudely piled, And thrice he thought what next his course should be; Thrice wiped the triple tears that dewed his cheek, Thrice muttered words I care not to repeat; Then murmuring his mother's name three times, Made up his mind to slaughter three more foes. So thrice again his spear was launched in space, And three miles off, within Troy's triple walls, Three widows, each with children three, were left To mourn that he, Achilles, had not thought Four times that afternoon instead of three." From _Funny Folks_. * * * * * UNFORTUNATE MISS BAILEY. _An Experiment._ (A parody of the _Lord of Burleigh_.) When he whispers, "O, Miss Bailey, Thou art brightest of the throng!" She makes murmur, softly, gaily-- "Alfred, I have loved thee long." Then he drops upon his knees, a Proof his heart is soft as wax; She's--I don't know who; but he's a Captain bold from Halifax. Though so loving, such another Artless bride was never seen; Coachee thinks that she's his mother-- Till they get to Gretna Green. There they stand by him attended, Hear the sable smith rehearse That which links them, when 'tis ended, Tight for better or for worse. Now her heart rejoices--ugly Troubles need disturb her less-- Now the Happy Pair are snugly Seated in the night express. So they go with fond emotion, So they journey through the night; London is their land of Goschen-- See its suburbs are in sight! Hark, the sound of life is swelling, Pacing up, and racing down; Soon they reach her simple dwelling-- Burley-street, by Somers Town.