* * * * * A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. (_THOROUGHLY NEW STYLE._) [Illustration] Belinda dear, once on a time I doted on your every feature, I wrote you _billets doux_ in rhyme In which I called you "charming creature." No lover half so keen as I, Than mine no ardent passion stronger, So I should like to tell you why I cannot love you any longer. When I was yours and you were mine, Your hair, I thought, was most delightful, But now, through Fashion's last design, It looks, to my taste, simply frightful! Though why this should be I don't know, For I can think of nothing madder Than hair decked out in coils that go To make what seems to be a ladder. Unhappy day, when first you dressed Your tresses thus--how you must rue it! For you yourself, you know, confessed It took you several hours to do it. Oh, tell me, is it but a snare Designed to captivate another, Or do you merely bind your hair Because you're bidden by your mother? Again--you will not take it ill-- You are, my dear, distinctly dumpy: A flowing cape it's certain will Well--_not_ become one short and stumpy. Yet since, although you are not tall, You wear a cape, you may take my word That in the mouths of one and all You have become a very byword. So this is why my love has fled-- If ever there should come a season When you shall show some sense instead Of such an utter lack of reason, If I should still be fancy free, Why then it's only right to mention That, if you care to write to me, I'll give your claims my best attention. * * * * * A NOTE.--In _Black and White_ for August 8 there is a large picture representing a group of English Dramatists, amongst whom please specially notice a figure intended for Mr. W.S. GILBERT (it was thoughtful and kind of the artist to put the names below), who is apparently explaining to a select few why he has been compelled to come out in this strange old coat and these queer collars. All the Dramatists look as cheerful as mutes at a funeral, their troubled expression of countenance probably arising from the knowledge that somewhere hidden away is a certain eminently unbiassed Ibsenitish critic who has been engaged to do the lot in a lump. From this exhibition of collective wisdom turn to p. 203, and observe the single figure of a cabman, drawn by an artist who certainly has a Keene appreciation of the style of _Mr. Punch's_ inimitable "C.K." * * * * * [Illustration: "BURYING THE HATCHET". (_Vide Report of the L.C. & D. Chairman's Speech, "Times," August 6._)] * * * * * A LESSON FROM THE R.N.E. (_FOR THE USE OF SAILORS PROPOSING TO JOIN THE ROYAL NAVY._) [Illustration: Boxing the Compass.] _Question_. I think you have been to the Royal Naval Exhibition at Chelsea.