PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 108. JUNE 22, 1895. _edited by Sir Francis Burnand_ ROUNDABOUT READINGS. [Illustration] It has been noticed by philosophers that a mere name will often lead a man to his ruin. Why, for example, was JOHN DARLEY fined twenty shillings and costs at the Tynemouth Petty Sessions? He met a boiler-smith, RICHARD ROTHWELL, riding on a bicycle. Thereupon, without any apparent reason, he used abusive language, bashed the unoffending boiler-smith on the nose, brandished a knife, and shouted out, "Come on!--I'm JOHNNY DARLEY, from Byker." There you have it. Residing, as he did, in a perpetual comparative, he naturally despised and loathed the positive "byke." Hence his violent assault on its rider. * * * I observe, with deep regret, that Professor LLOYD, of Southport, has been fined for trespassing on a railway bridge at Preston. The Professor did not want to stay there. All he wished to do, and all that he actually did, was to dive off into the water below. He is an aquatic Professor, and informed the Bench that he was obliged to do these things to keep up his reputation. * * * I'll tell you a tale of Professor LLOYD, Who dived off a bridge at Preston-- An act that the magistrates much annoyed, Though he kept both his coat and vest on. They said "You mustn't repeat this joke, Professor, or else you'll rue it." But LLOYD, the Professor, he up and spoke, And said, "I'm obliged to do it. Up on the bridge I stand for awhile, I stand till I fairly shiver. Then down I go--it seems like a mile-- And I plunge in the bubbling river. I hope your worships won't "queer my pitch," For I'm sorry to give you trouble In maintaining a reputation which Is so closely combined with bubble." * * * I wish I had been in Hawick lately. Ever since I first learnt the rudiments of the English language I have been haunted by a desire to know how a man looked and acted when he "bussed the Standard." They've done that at Hawick "in connection," as I read, "with the celebration of the ancient custom of the Common Riding." Later on "the local slogan '_Teribus_' was sung with great vigour." There is something crushing, scattering, and battle-heralding about the mere sound of that fearful word. * * *