The President's address, I think, will tax My intellectual organ till it cracks; The Association British isn't wanted to be skittish, Wear the motley, nor to run a race in sacks; But 'twas getting awkward rather when my youngest asked his father What the President implied by parallax. The money market often puzzles me; I've no notion what the Funding Loan may be; In the sales of corn (Odessa), jute and sago, I confess a Sort of feeling that I'm very much at sea; But couldn't the reporter keep this science rather shorter, Or at any rate provide us with a key? * * * * * QUEER QUERIES. HOUSE DECORATION.--What am I to do under the following circumstances? I took a house a year ago, and painted the outside scarlet, with gold "facings," to remind me--and my neighbours--of the fact that I am highly connected with the Army, my deceased wife's half-brother having once held some post in the Commissariat. I am leaving the house now, and my landlord actually insists on my scraping all the paint off! He says that if any bulls happen to pass the house, they will be sure to run at it. Am I obliged to yield to this ridiculous caprice?--LOVER OF THE PICTURESQUE. * * * * * [Illustration: ALL-ROUND POLITICIANS.--SIR RICHARD. _Mr. Punch's Parliamentary Artist reads in the Papers that Sir Richard T---- does not intend to Stand for Parliament again!_] * * * * * SEASIDE ASIDES. (_PATERFAMILIAS IN NORTH CORNWALL._) [Illustration] Oh! how delightful now at last to come Away from town--its dirt, its degradation, Its never-ending whirl, its ceaseless hum. (A long chalks better, though, than sheer stagnation.) For what could mortal man or maid want more Than breezy downs to stroll on, rocks to climb up, Weird labyrinthine caverns to explore? (There's nothing else to do to fill the time up.) Your honest face here earns an honest brown, You ramble on for miles 'mid gorse and heather, Sheep hold athletic sports upon the down (Which makes the mutton taste as tough as leather). The place is guiltless, too, of horrid piers, And likewise is not Christy-Minstrel tooney; No soul-distressing strains disturb your ears. (A German band has just played "_Annie Rooney_.") The eggs as fresh as paint, the Cornish cream The boys from school all say is "simply ripping," The butter, so the girls declare, "a dream." (The only baccy you can buy quite dripping.) A happiness of resting after strife, Where one forgets all worldly pain and sorrow, And one contentedly could pass one's life. (A telegram will take _me_ home to-morrow.) * * * * * [Illustration]