The saddest feature about this painful controversy is the personal estrangement which it has brought about between the two Vicars. Only six months ago the Rev. Mr. Bolster presided at a meeting at which the friends and parishioners of the Rev. Mr. Potts presented him with a testimonial and a set of electro-plated fish-knives to commemorate the celebration of his silver wedding. The testimonial, which was composed by Mr. Bolster, was a document couched in terms of the most affectionate admiration, and special reference was made to Mr. Potts's editorial abilities and the extraordinarily high literary standard of his parish magazine. In acknowledging the presentation Mr. Potts said that Mr. Bolster's energy and goodwill in carrying it out had given him more satisfaction than anything else, and when the two eminent divines were photographed in the act of embracing on the platform there was hardly a dry eye in the huge audience, numbering fully forty persons, who attended the proceedings. Illustration: THE CIRCUS OF EUROPE. TURKEY (_to Europa, ring-mistress_). "INFIRM OF PURPOSE! GIVE ME BACK THE WHIP." * * * * * Illustration: _Sympathetic Friend (to gloomy batsman, disgusted at being given out for a catch at the wicket)._ "WOT'S WRONG, BILL? WAS IT DAHTFUL?" _Batsman._ "DAHTFUL! I SHOULD THINK IT WAS DAHTFUL! I COULD 'ARDLY 'EAR IT MYSELF." * * * * * THE TATTIE-BOGLE.[A] A farmer once, to scare the birds away, O'er his poor seeds set up, to leer and ogle, A raffish moon-face, stuffed with straw and hay, A Tattie-Bogle; And rook and daw and stare their pinions spread Incontinent; for, so they judged the matter, Some scowling foe stood there, and off they fled With startled chatter. A week the portent stood in sun and rain And fluttered rags of dread. A sparrow, nathless, Whose nestlings cried, dashed down and snatched a grain, And got off scathless. Emboldened, back she flew; to such good end The others followed, craning and alarmful, To find the monster, if perhaps no friend, At least unharmful. To-day the bogle wags, a thing of jest And open scorn; the very pipits mock it; A jenny wren, I'm told, has built her nest In one torn pocket! Heart of my heart, and so prove aught of awe That darkens on your path; the buckram rogue'll Stand, when you face him, but a ghost of straw-- A Tattie-Bogle! [Footnote A. Scarecrow. Scots.] * * * * * Illustration: _Exasperated Subscriber (having found six different numbers engaged)._ "WELL, WHAT NUMBERS HAVE YOU GOT?" * * * * * THE THREE-CARD TRICK.