These are the "Bobbies," all forlorn, called on by the man unshaven, unshorn, aroused from his sleep in the early morn, by the dog who barked at the bell, &c. [Illustration] And this is the burglar, smiling in scorn, who escaped by the rope-ladder, window-sill-borne, and evaded the Bobbies all forlorn, called on by the man, unshaven, unshorn, aroused from his sleep in the early morn, by the dog who barked at the bell, agitated by the telephone, set in motion by the wire, attached to the burglar-alarm, connected with the show-case, reached by way of the rope-ladder, hooked to the window, plastered with brown-paper and treacle, belonging to the House that BILL burgled. [Illustration] * * * * * SUGGESTIONS FOR RIDE PARK. "Many improvements," the _Daily News_ writes, "in the arrangement of the Parks in the West End" have been made. Have they? Perhaps visible to the eye assisted by _Mr. Weller's_ "pair o' patent double million magnifyin' gas microscopes of hextra power." But why, for the hundredth time we ask, and every equestrian asks as well, why aren't rides made across Kensington Gardens from Princes' Gate to Bayswater? Beautiful rides they would be under the trees, and thus varying the wearisome monotony of the round and round squirrel-in-a-cage sort of routine exercise, to which the Rotten-Row Riders are purgatorially bound. Also, why not a ride right across Hyde Park from the Achilles Statue to an exit facing about Albion Street, Bayswater? What difficulties can there be which a First Commissioner of Works representing an actively Liberal and Progressive policy could not carry out for the benefit of the Mounted Liver Brigade and the Light Cavalry? * * * * * Old Father Thames is still rather dirty. We often hear of "The Thames Basin." Why doesn't Father Thames use it,--with soap? What a chance here for a P**rs' advertisement. * * * * * [Illustration: FROM THE EMERALD ISLE. "JUST MAKE IT A COUPLE OF SHILLINGS, CAPTAIN DEAR!"--"NO!" "EIGHTEENPENCE THEN, MAJOR!"--"NO!" "OCH THIN, COLONEL DARLING, JUST THREPPENCE FOR A GLASS O' WHISKEY!"--"_NO_, I TELL YOU!" "GIT OUT WID YE THIN, YE BOA CONSHTHRUCTOR, SURE AN' I KNOW'D YE ALL THE TOIME!" [_N.B._--_The Fare is the Head of an eminent Firm of Furriers in Kilconan Street, and cultivates a martial appearance._] * * * * * A BIG LION AMONG THE LITTLE 'UNS.