Good Black (and White) Knight, Our youth's joint delight, With that other Black Knight, dear Sir WALTER'S (Whom you pictured well), Ancient memories swell, Till language, in praising you, falters. You drew, with such dash, _All_ our heroes; they flash On our memories. Ah, we thanked _you_ so For Dons, Rosinantes, And Sanchos (CERVANTES!) "Leather-Stocking," and Robinson Crusoe. Our fancies still carry Your (SHAKSPEARE'S) King Harry, We know our own boyhood's sound slumbers Were haunted by Pucks, Robin Hoods, Friar Tucks, And scenes from your brave Christmas Numbers. God bless you, Sir JOHN, For your Knight and your Don, Who moved our youth's fervour and pity! Sure every Old Boy Hopes you long may enjoy The freedom (and health) of our City! * * * * * RIDDLE FOR THE GREAT REALIST. _Q._ When is a sailor like a French journalist? _A._ When he has to "sign articles." * * * * * [Illustration: WHO WOULD NOT BE A MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT?] * * * * * [Illustration: A NEAT WAY OF PUTTING IT. _Cabby_ (_to Clergyman, who has paid the legal fare_). "WON'T LEAVE ME MUCH FOR THE HOFFERTORY NEXT SUNDAY, SIR, WILL IT?"] * * * * * THE ADVENTURES OF PICKLOCK HOLES. (_By Cunnin Toil._) No. V.--THE HUNGARIAN DIAMOND. Everybody must remember the apparently causeless panic that seized the various European governments only a few years ago. It was the dead season. Members of Parliament were all disporting themselves on the various grouse-moors which are specially reserved for that august legislative body in order that there may be no lack of accuracy in the articles of those who imagine that the 12th of August brings to every M.P. a yearning for the scent of heather and the sound of breech-loading guns. Suddenly, and without any warning, a great fear spread through Europe. Nobody seemed able to state precisely how it began. There were, of course, some who attributed it to an after-dinner speech made by the German Emperor at the annual banquet of the Blue Bösewitzers, the famous Cuirassier regiment of which the Grand Duke of SCHNUPFTUCHSTEIN is the honorary commanding officer. Others again saw in it the influence of M. PAUL DEROULÈDE, while yet a third party attributed it with an equal assumption of certainty to the fact that Austria had recently forbidden the import of Servian pigs. They were all wrong. The time has come when the truth must be known. The story I am about to tell will show my extraordinary friend, PICKLOCK HOLES, on an even higher pinnacle of unmatchable acumen than that which fame has hitherto assigned to him. He may be vexed when he reads my narrative of his triumphs, for he is as modest as he is inductive; but I am determined that, at whatever cost, the story shall be made public.