The pageantry is twice as grand, The wealth of wealth embarrasses; And yet this is not elfinland But great AUGUSTUS HARRIS's. The _blasé_ children vote it flat, When Mister Clown cries, "Here's a go!" Yes, there's the box where erst we sat And laughed so, sixty years ago. The very box: I think, you know, The reason I'm so queer to-night Is merely because long ago Here faces were not here to-night. I'd best be off--Bless me! no Clown? No Stage?--no Past invidious? No Orchestra?--but simply BROWN Snoring the midnight hideous! No Drury Lane?--no tinsel flare?-- No pirouetting Bogeydom?-- Only a Club, and one who there Forgot in sleep his Fogeydom! Welcome my Transformation Scene; I'm dull once more, and every Old Bachelor like me, I ween, May muse at times his reverie. * * * * * NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or The London Charivari, Vol. 100., Jan. 17, 1891, by Various