Dirty days hath September, April, June, and November; From December up to May, The rain it raineth every day. All the rest have thirty-one, Without a blessed gleam of sun; And if any had two-and-thirty, They’d be just as wet, and twice as dirty. _Figaro._ 1873. A SUMMERY SUMMARY. Thirty-one days hath the month of May, Most of them chilly, and none of them gay, June――less obnoxious by one day――has thirty, Every one, more or less, dirty and squirty. Thirty plus one are the “whack” of July, None of them sunny, and few of them dry, Three months of gloom that each year groweth glummer! That sums the sell that is called English Summer! USEFUL MEMS. FOR 1885. JANUARY is first month (It commences with the oneth). FEBRUARY’S days are twenty-eight (Wanting more, four years you wait). In MARCH you find mad hares and Lent (25th’s the day for rent). APRIL’S days are only thirty (And even most of those are dirty!) Thirty-one there are in MAY (24th’s Victoria’s day). Thirty days are there in JUNE (Rent-day the 24th――too soon!) Thirty-one days in JULY (A month for eating greengage pie). In AUGUST thirty-one you’ll find (If you don’t care, well, I don’t mind). Thirty days, please, hath SEPTEMBER (And 29th’s the rent, remember!) Thirty-one days hath OCTOBER (Quite enough, if you keep sober!) NOVEMBER it has thirty (why?―― You’d best ask some one else than I). DECEMBER――thirty-one (contrive To scrape up rent by 25). ――――:o:―――― THE THREE JOLLY RATSMEN. (_With Apologies to the Memory of Randolph Caldecott_). It’s of three politicians, and a rattin’ they did go; An’ they ratted, an’ they ranted, an’ they blew their horns also. Look ye there! An’ one said, “Mind yo’r een, an’ keep yo’r noses reet i’ th’ wind, An’ then, by scent or seet we’ll leet o’summat to our mind.” Look ye there! (_Portraits of Chamberlain, Goschen and Hartington._) They ratted, an’ they ranted, an’ the first thing they did find Was a Grand Old Statesman in a field, an’ him they left behind. Look ye there! One said it was a Statesman, an’ another he said, “Nay; It’s just a Liberal Party, that has been and gone astray.” Look ye there! They ratted an’ they ranted, an’ the next thing they did find, Was a gruntin’, grindin’ grindlestone, an’ that they left behind. Look ye there. One said it was a grindlestone, another he said, “Nay, It’s nought but a fossil Quaker that’s gone an’ roll’t away.” Look ye there! (_Portrait of John Bright._)