There are some persons of whom I would make short work were I a Captain on board, with power to order into irons anyone whose presence was objectionable. And these persons are, Firstly, stout greasy women, with damp, dirty little children. Secondly, fat old men and women (more or less dirty) eating green, juicy pears with pocket knives. Thirdly, smokers of strong pipes. Fourthly, smokers of cigars. Fifthly (imprisonment with torture), for smokers of bad cigars. Sixthly, people who will persist in attempting to walk about and who, in order to preserve their perpendicular, are perpetually making grabs at everything and everybody. Seventhly, aimless wanderers, who seem unable to remain in one place for five minutes at a time. 5.45. Old England once more. We land on P'm'th Pier. * * * * * "'LUX' AGAINST HIM."--At the Church Congress last week the gentleman known as "Father IGNATIUS," who evidently considers an Ecclesiastical Congress at Birmingham a mere "Brummagam affair," became uncommonly excited. It cannot be said that his violence took the form of demanding the blood of any antagonist, as he distinctly objected to the presence of _Gore_. But Mr. GORE, author of _Lux Mundi_, won the toss, stood his ground, and spoke; his speech being very favourably received. "Yet," as the President remarked (probably to himself, as it was not reported), "we must draw the line somewhere, and it is only a pity the LYNE has been 'drawn' here." Subsequently the LYNE shook hands with the police, peace was restored, and the LYNE lay down with the lamb. "See how these Christians love one another!" * * * Why is an utterly selfish man always a most presentable person in the very best society?--_Ans_. Because never for one minute does he forget himself. * * * * * [Illustration: MR. PUNCH'S APPEAL--TO COAL-OWNERS, MINERS, AND ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.] _War!_ Is it still to be war, wild war in the heart of the land? Are we children of England, busied in tearing our mother's breast? And is there no ruling counsel, and is there no warning hand To bring this folly to reason, and still this fury to rest? _War!_ And the boons of Nature are wasted in stubborn strife, And women, children, non-combatants, suffer and starve and stand by; And idle hands are lifted in vain for the means of life; And _why_? Ye will not list to each other, then listen to me and to _these_, Whose mute appeal I must voice, and whose pitiful cause I must plead! You of the hardened hearts playing autocrat much at your ease, And you of the hardened hands who the _end_ of the way little heed; Listen and look and consider! The blows that you blindly strike Like shafts that are shot at a venture, fall not alone upon foes. The arrow shot o'er the house[1] may a brother hurt, belike-- Who knows?