"Capital!" cries the Captain. "Look here, Mrs. GOSLING,--I've just thought of a little joke. I want to see if he'll _know_ me. Now you go and talk to him a little, and--presently, you know--say there's a man in the drawing-room, who's come to wind the clocks, and then I'll come in to where you are, and make believe to wind the clock there--do you see? I'd bet anything he won't spot me at first!" You are young enough to be delighted at the idea of such a pretty little comedy, and you trip away to the study, and archly keep dear WILLIAM in conversation until the Captain is ready to make his appearance. At last, a little impatiently, you give the cue by mentioning that there is a clock-winder in the drawing-room. WILLIAM is amusingly suspicious, and insists on seeing the man. As the scene will be just as funny in the drawing-room, you accompany him thither--but there is no gallant Captain there affecting to wind your charming little Sèvres clock (a wedding present)--he has gone, and--alas! without leaving a timepiece for anybody else to wind. And WILLIAM is _most_ disagreeable and unpleasant about it! * * * * * NOTES FROM A NURSERY-GARDEN. (_BY AN AWFULLY CLEVER CHILD_.) DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I am a Poetess. I am told that the Age is old, and that Poetry is over. _My_ age is ten, and my poetry is certainly not over. My nurse (one of those horrid critics) has ventured to suggest that I am not original. I leave you to judge. Yours impatiently, ENFANT TERRIBLE. N.W. Alack! up Northern Primrose Hill (_Sing, oh, JACK! sing, ah, GILL!_) They climbed, and deemed it Helicon, Those childish bards, GILLETTE and JOHN, Their pails with Hippocrene to fill. (_Sing, oh, JACK! sing, ah, GILL!_) Adown that Western Hill, alack! (_Sing, ah, GILL! sing, oh, JACK!_) Or e'er they gained the Muses' well, JACK kicked his bucket frail and, fell. And GILL was brought upon her back. (_Sing, ah, GILL! sing, oh, JACK!_) TO A SCENTY PEDE. How doth yonder miniature featness, Though wingless, with gossamer wit, Foregather mellifluent sweetness, While Fates unrelenting permit-- Wise heir of bright hours, completeness Of blossoms that flicker and flit. ON A JAPANESE SCREEN. In Yeddo, where long lilies weep, Bo' Peep The shepherdess hath lost her sheep. She recks not where the sheep have strayed, Poor maid, Beneath the Boodha-Temple's shade. Her solace is the Minstrel's: _I'd_ Let slide My flocks of verse without a guide. So will they best return without A doubt-- Or tale that mortal can make out. MISS MUFFET. So sweet! Child-Innocence, with upward-curling feet On buffet-seat, Resolving (as we all resolve) to eat. So sad! The ravening Spider from his eyrie mad Swoops, boldly bad, And scares (as spiders scare) the Pure and Glad. ON A KLEPTOMANIAC.