_The Northern Cobbler._--Suggested by a favourite coal, supplied to this day from Newcastle. _The Moated Grange._--The site of the original still exists at Haverstock Hill, and was fifty years ago more remote than it is now. Hence the title of one of the most pleasing little poems of comparatively modern times. Trusting that these hints may be of service to those who take an interest in Lord TENNYSON'S very entertaining works, I remain, my dear _Mr. Punch_, yours sincerely, A SCOTCH COUSIN (THRICE REMOVED AGAINST HIS WILL) OF _Brain Cobwebby, Hatchley Colwell._ BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. * * * * * MR. PUNCH'S MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS. No. VII.--RECLAIMED! _Or, How Little Elfie taught her Grandmother._ CHARACTERS. _Lady Belledame_ (_a Dowager of the deepest dye_). _Monkshood_ (_her Steward, and confidential Minion_). _Little Elfie_ (_an Angel Child_). This part has been specially constructed for that celebrated Infant Actress, Banjoist, and Variety Comédienne, Miss BIRDIE CALLOWCHICK. SCENE--_The Panelled Room at Nightshade Hall._ [Illustration] _Lady Belledame_ (_discovered preparing parcels_). Old and unloved!--yes, the longer I live, the more plainly do I perceive that I am _not_ a popular old woman. Have I not acquired the reputation in the county of being a witch? My neighbour, Sir VEVEY LONG, asked me publicly only the other day "when I would like my broom ordered," and that minx, Lady VIOLET POWDRAY, has pointedly mentioned old cats in my hearing! PERGAMENT, my family lawyer, has declined to act for me any longer, merely because MONKSHOOD rack-rented some of the tenants a little too energetically in the Torture Chamber--as if in these hard times one was not justified in putting the screw on! Then the villagers scowl when I pass; the very children shrink from me--[_A childish voice outside window_: "Yah, 'oo sold 'erself to Old Bogie for a pound o' tea an' a set o' noo teeth?"]--that is, when they do not insult me by suggestions of bargains that are not even businesslike! No matter--I will be avenged upon them all--ay, all! 'Tis Christmas-time--the season at which sentimental fools exchange gifts and good wishes. For once I, too, will distribute a few seasonable presents.... (_Inspecting parcels._) Are my arrangements complete? The bundle of choice cigars, in each of which a charge of nitro-glycerine has been dexterously inserted? The lip-salve, made up from my own prescription with corrosive sublimate by a venal chemist in the vicinity? The art flower-pot, containing a fine specimen of the Upas plant, swathed in impermeable sacking? The sweets compounded with sugar of lead? The packet of best ratsbane? Yes, nothing has been omitted. Now to summon my faithful MONKSHOOD.... Ha! he is already at hand. [_Chord as_ MONKSHOOD _enters_.