_Counsel for the Prosecution_. I beg pardon, but I must set my friend right. Evidence _is_ offered in support of the charge, my Lord. _Judge_. Yes; but there is no properly constituted body to receive and decide upon its credibility. I am glad that the Grand Jury (to whom I had the privilege of addressing a few observations upon our unfortunate position) have ignored a larger number of bills than usual; still the present case is before the Court, and I must dispose of it. Can you assist us in any way, Mr. PERPLEBAGGE? _Counsel for the Prosecution_ (_smiling_). I am afraid not, my Lord. _Judge_. Well, I suppose I have no alternative but to order the Prisoner to be taken back to-- _Prisoner_. To the place I was in last night? No, thankee!--not me! Look here, gemmen all, we knows one another, don't we? Well, just to oblige you--as Darmoor ain't 'alf bad in the summer, and as in course I _did_ do it--I plead guilty! _Judge_ (_with a sigh of relief_). Prisoner at the Bar, we are infinitely beholden to you! [_Passes regulation sentence with grateful courtesy._ * * * * * THE INVECTIVE OF H-RC-RT. (_A FRAGMENT IN HEXAMETERS, NOT BY GEORGE MEREDITH._) [Illustration] Heigh me! brazen of front, thou glutton for Ground Game, how can one, Servant here to thy mandates heed thee among the Tories? Surely thy mission is fudge, oh, DAWNAY, Conservative Colonel! I, Sir, hither I fared on account of the cant-armed Sportsmen, Pledged to the combat; they unto me have in no wise a harm done, Never have they, of a truth, come putting my Hares and my Rabbits, Never in deep-soiled Hampshire, the nurser of heroes and H-RC-RTS, Ravaged; but if I found them among my trampled Carnations, Hares or Rabbits, or gun-bearing Tories, by Jingo, I'd pot 'em! O hugely shameless! Thee shall we follow to do an injustice Unto the farmers, seeing the Hares a-munching their crops up? I do not sit at the feet of the blatant Bordesley Gamaliel, Or of the unregenerate Agricultural Minister. Close time? Fudge! The Hares were _intended_ at last to perish Either by sounding gun or the gaping jaws of the greyhound. Food for the people? Cant! The promotion of Sport is the purpose Plain of this pestilent Bill, which neutralises the victory Won, with much labour, by Me, my gift to the sons of the furrow. DAWNAY talks as though the Hare were a "domiciled animal." Shows what a deal _he_ knows of Hares--save the pleasure of killing 'em. Shall I give the nourishing farmers up to this pillage? Nay, sure mine were the hands did most in the storm of the combat, Ay, and when peradventure we share the booty amongst us, After the General Election, the Tories may find--but no matter-r-r! Surely a time will come,--not a "close time" that for the Tories,-- I being outraged, _then_ will give them particular pepper! * * * * * HEARTHILY WELCOME.