Having got the fish on board you will need a spell of rest. An hour's battle with a stoot is the most sudorific experience that I know, even more so than my contests with red snappers at Mazatlan, in Mexico, or bat-fish off the coasts of Florida. A complete change is necessary. I have already spoken of the eating qualities of the stoot, which exceed those of the tope. One is enough to provide sustenance for a small country congregation. Cooked _en casserole_, or filleted, or grilled and stuffed with Carlsbad plums, it is delicious. And lastly it lends itself admirably to curing or preserving. Bottled stoot is in its way as nutritious as Guinness's. * * * * * FLOWERS' NAMES. LONDON PRIDE. There was a haughty maiden Who lived in London Town, With gems her shoes were laden, With gold her silken gown. "In all the jewelled Indies, In all the scented East, Where the hot and spicy wind is, No lady of the best Can vie with me," said None-so-pretty As down she walked through London City. "Our walls stand grey and stately; Our city gates stand high; Our lords spend wide and greatly; Our dames go sweeping by; Our heavy-laden barges Float down the quiet flood Where on the pleasant marges Gay flowers bloom and bud. Oh, there's no place like London City, And I'm its crown," said None-so-pretty. The fairies heard her boasting, And that they cannot bear; So off they went a-posting For charms to bind her there. They wove their spells around her, The maiden pink and white; With magic fast they bound her, And flowers sprang to sight All white and pink, called None-so-pretty, The Pride of dusty London City. * * * * * "A City pigeon swooped down suddenly out of nowhere and all but took the cap off a bricklayer at the rate of forty miles an hour."--_Daily Paper._ It will be observed that the speed was that of the bird and not the bricklayer. * * * * * "At ---- Church, on Monday last, a very interesting wedding was solemnised, the contracting parties being Mr. Richard ----, eldest son of Mr. and Mrs. ----, and a bouquet of pink carnations."--_Welsh Paper._ There has been nothing like this since GILBERT wrote of-- "An attachment _a la_ Plato For a bashful young potato." * * * * * [Illustration: "WOT YER MEAN PHOTOGRAPHIN' MY WIFE? I SAW YER." "YOU'RE QUITE MISTAKEN; I--I WOULDN'T DO SUCH A THING." "WOT YER MEAN--_WOULDN'T_? SHE'S THE BEST-LOOKIN' WOMAN ON THE BEACH."] * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks_.)