Miss SALLY PIPPIN, who officiates in The Metropolitan Ladies' Boot Emporium, kindly sends me the following notes. "I have had no education at all. I find it quite useless. All you require is to make a shine. It's as easy as shelling peas. By the way, I always wear my hair brought up at the back. This hint may be useful to intending bootblacks." (That's enough for one go, I rayther fancy. There's lots more o' the same sort all ekally valuble, but I mustn't let you have it all at once.--_B. the B._) * * * * * EARLY GREEN PEAS. _A Gourmand's Ditty._ THERE'S a pleasure in Rhubarb, fresh, early and red, When it comes with the flush of the newly born year, There's a joy in the tasty Asparagus head That is met with in soup, be it thick,--be it clear! There's delight in the oyster; a peace that ne'er fails In the placid enjoyment the Plover's egg brings, A sense of calm peace in your nicely cooked quails, But oh! there's one dish that will crown all these things; For what, with such rapture the palate can please As the first welcome helping of Early Green Peas! You may bring me Clyde salmon, three shillings the pound, Red mullet in envelope, done to a turn, The young spring potatoe, dug fresh from the ground, The daintiest cream from a Devonshire churn: You may offer me salad that's almost divine, With a chicken so plump it should gladden the heart; You may say, "Wash that down with the best brands of wine, And follow it up with young gooseberry tart!" My reply is but this, "Ah! withhold all of these! But yield me the rapture of Early Green Peas!" * * * * *