[_Draws cork of pint bottle, and distributes the lemonade amidst the good-natured protestations of the revellers. Scene closes in upon the Temperance orgy._ * * * * * _NOT IN THE "NEWCASTLE PROGRAMME."--Last week Sir CHARLES FREEMANTLE, K.C.B., was presented with his portrait painted by Hon. JOHN COLLIER, in Hon. JOHN'S best style; and so, for this work, COLLIER cannot be "hauled over the coals." _À propos_, evidently _the_ artist to paint the present Ministry should be a Collier, as it is a _Coal_ition Cabinet. If the Collier were a Radical, how coal-black the portraits would come out! * * * * * [Illustration: "GENTLEMAN JOE." _Joe Ch-mb-rl-n_ (_the Driver, to his fare Lord S-l-sb-ry, with A. J. B-lf-r_). "ALL RIGHT, GOVERNOR! _I_ KNOW THE WAY!"] * * * * * 'ARRY ON THE ELECTIONS. Dear CHARLIE,--O 'ip, 'ip, 'ooray, an' three more, and a tiger! Great Scott! I'm as 'appy as ten on 'em, CHARLIE, though thusty and thundering 'ot. I've bin up to my eyes in it this time, and now these 'ere Polling Returns Are a-sending me slap off my chump, though I'm sorry they didn't chuck BURNS. Oh! I'm feeling O K and a arf; I could stand on my 'ed with delight, For the Rads are knocked out in three rounds, 'Ome Rule's smashed, and Old England's all right. And although it is late, and I'm tired, I'm so full of our Glorious Win, That I feel I _must_ sit down and drop yer a line, mate, afore I turn in. I'm the Pet of the Primrosers, CHARLIE, and, 'ang it, I've earned it all round, For I've worked like a nig, and no error. It suits me right down to the ground. I've canvassed and posted tremenjous, I'm 'usky with cheer and chi-ike, And I've mounted the Unionist colours, and blazed round the streets on a bike. There was full arf a mile on us, CHARLIE, a scarlet percession on wheels; With Japanese lanterns a-flying, and 'underds o' kids at our 'eels. I felt I was "charging the guns," like that brave Ballyclava Brigade, With shouts for "Lord MUNGO and Malt!" and a little one in for "The Trade." I tell yer, old man, 'twos hexciting. We dashed along Mulberry Scrubs. And up the 'igh street a rare buster, 'ocrayed by the bhoys at the Pubs. We scooted around for ten mile, the 'ole distance one thunderin' cheer; And _when_ we pulled up at the "Crown," if you'd just seen me lower the beer! I lapped off a quart in one quencher. "_That_'s rippin'!" sez I to the Bung. "I felt liked a dashed wooden 'orse, with a lump o' red leather for tongue." "Ah!" sez 'e, "and jest fancy, old man, if them Vetoers 'ad their vile way, Wy, _I_ couldn't sell you a tankard, and _you_ wouldn't 'ave any say!"