_Chloe_ (_coyly_). You're a flattering of me, young man! _Corydon_ (_ardently_). If I am, maay I forfeit your--Vote! _Chloe._ Well, of course, I will do what I can, As the Parish-princess, to promote The--what is it you want me to do? Yes, the Poor--and the Ditches--and Drains, The Rates--I do hope _they_'ll be few! The Allotments--I trust they'll be gains! But the Squire and the Parson? Oh! CORYDON mine, When _they_ hear what you've done, _won't_ they kick up a shine? _Corydon_ (_brusquely_). Oh! the Squire and the Parson be--blowed! All too long they've been cocks o' the walk. _Strephon_ (_eagerly_). Quite right! How this buzzum has glowed Your twin tyrants to baffle and baulk! _Corydon_ (_contemptuously_). You've dissembled your--hate for them well, Master STREPHON! It never leaked out Till _we_ made PATIENT GRIZZEL a _belle!_ _Now_ you'd like to cut in, I've no doubt. _Chloe_ (_coquettishly_). La sakes! do not quarrel! You're both very kyind, But--I fancy dear CORYDON'S most to my mind. [_Beams on him, and accepts the Bouquet._ _Strephon_ (_suppressing himself_). Well, well, 'tis the fortune of war! As it's holiday season, let's sing, Should Shepherds at Eastertide jar? Suave SHENSTONE would scout such a thing. I wish you and CORYDON luck-- The posy he's plucked you looks fine; Though I must say my fancy it struck, It was not wholly new--in design. However, dear CHLOE, you're sweet; 'tis fair weather; So, CORYDON, let's sing her praises--together-- _They sing_:-- Her charms--since she possessed the Vote-- Are things on which the swains all dote. Fearing to flout or slight. She dances, having now her way, No bygone Easter holiday E'er saw so fine a sight! Our village _Belle_ with _anyone_ Dares now to make comparison. Fair nymph, this Easter fun done, With proudest County Toast, though fair, You may compete or charms compare With the haughtiest "Pride of London!" * * * * * ASTOUNDING REPORT.--There is no foundation whatever for the report of the resignation of Lord HERSCHELL. It probably arose from some incautious and slangy person speaking of him in his office of LORD CHANCELLOR as having "got the sack." Obviously the Wool-sack was intended. * * * * * A GENUINE PHILANTHROPIST. O PASSMORE EDWARDS, you, beyond contention, Are worthy _Punch's_ "Honourable Mention." Whenever there be any boons a-brewing You're very sure, Sir, to be up and doing! There's scarce a project schemed with kindly sense, But profits by your large munificence. _Punch_ won't forget to pray when passing bedwards, For you--and for more bricks like PASSMORE EDWARDS! * * * * * ON THE SECOND READING OF THE HOME-RULE BILL. (_By a Rebellious Rad._)