Now, the word would be this--when the daylight is dawning, Or, at any rate, when it's more early than late, Pray remember the coachman, who, fitfully yawning Outside in the street, finds it weary to wait. You reck not at all of the hours that are fleeting, You ask for an "extra"--you can't be denied. But though, doubtless, soft nothings may set your heart beating, Yet they're awfully cold for the people outside. Want of thought, not of heart, is the reason as ever, So if you find leisure to read through this rhyme, When you order your carriage, in future endeavour To prevent any waiting--by being in time, * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. The Publisher of _The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine_, earnestly requests the reviewer, appealing to his heart in the reddest of red ink, on a slip of paper pasted on to the cover of the Magazine, not to extract and quote more than one column of "Talleyrand's Memoirs," which appear in this number for January. The Publisher of the _C.I.M.M._ does not appeal personally to the Baron--who is now the last, bar one, of the Barons, and that bar one is one at the Bar,--but, for all that, the Baron hereby and hereon takes his solummest Half-a-Davey or his entire Davey, that he will not write, engrave, or represent, or cause to be, &c, for purposes of quotation, one single word, much less line, of _Tallyho_--beg pardon, of _Talleyrand_,--extracts from whose memoirs are now appearing in the aforesaid _C.I.M.M._ But all he will say at present is this, that, if the secret and private Memoirs haven't got in them anything more thrilling or startling, or out of the merest common-place, than appears in this number of the _C.I.M.M._, then the Baron will say that he would prefer reading such contributions as M. de BLOWITZ's story of "How he became a Special," or _The Pigmies of the African Forest_ by HENRY M. STANLEY in the same number of this Mag. [Illustration] What the Baron dearly loves is, ELLIOT STOCK-IN-TRADE _The Book-worm_, always most interesting to Book-worms, and almost as interesting to Book-grubs or Book-butterflies. By the way, the publishing office of _The Book-worm_ ought to be in Grub Street. For what sort of fish is _The Book-worm_ an attractive bait? I suppose there are queer fish in the Old Book trade that can take in any number of Book-worms, as is shown from a modern instance, well and wisely commented upon in this very number for January, No. 38, which is excellent food for worms; the whole series, indeed, must be a very Diet of Worms. Success to the _Book-worm_! May it grow to double the size, and be a glow-worm, to enlighten us in the bye-paths of literature. "_Prosit!_" says the Baron.