As the asp's fang could turn to pulseless clay The Pride of Egypt, so this Worm can slay If left long covert for its crawling course. Up, up against it every virile force, And every valorous virtue! By its hiss 'Tis known _hostis humani generis_, Let Civilisation snatch St. Michael's sword, And slay this Dragon, of a tribe abhorred The meanest and the most malignant Worm Which can spill venom, but, attacked, will squirm, Shrink, splutter, vanish. With no noble end, All men must be its foes, blind hatred its sole friend! * * * * * BREAKING. [In his spot-barred Billiard-Match with H. COLES, PEALL made breaks of 108, 133, 64, 52, 78, 77, and 80.] Break, break, break On thy Billiard-board, oh P.! As easy as cutting butter The business seems to thee. "Oh, well that the spot is barred," The knowing ones glibly say, "Or we might get no chance Of a COLES' strike here to-day." And the marvellous game goes on. Till the watchers have their fill; And one drops off, and dreams He's taken the "Red" for a pill. Break, break, break! And there's one that will broken be; For the Pony I put on the other man Will never come back to me. * * * * * SUGGESTION FROM "CHILDE HAROLD" AT OLYMPIA.--"I stood in Venice on the Bridge of Size And paint," &c., &c. * * * * * [Illustration: THE DYNAMITE DRAGON.] * * * * * ON THE FIRST GREEN CHAIR. [Illustration: Thursday, April 7. Hyde Park. Mid-day.] Reach it, attendant; wicked winter flies off: Place it with pomp for me to sit and stare Up at the sun who banquets us with cries of "Chair!" Long have we pined in darkness most uncanny: Now to Hyde Park return its gauze of gold, Jewels of crocus and enhancements mani- -fold. Welcome, delicious zephyr, blithe new-comer, Urging to purchase patent-leather boots, Hats of a virgin glossiness, and summer suits. Welcome, attire of carnival-carousers, Suddenly bursting on the 'wildered view. Mine--I don't mind confessing it--are trousers new, These that, serene in atmosphere serenest, Droop o'er a Chair, whose emerald taunts the trees-- Green are the leaves, and greener than the greenest Peas! All things must end: to-morrow may be icy: Wither too soon the joys that freshest are; End will sweet summer reveries, and my ci- gar. Ends too that master-piece of Messrs. HYAM Bashfully hinted at in line sixteen; Green was the Chair I sat on--and now _I_ am green! * * * * * "ALL'S (FAIRLY) WELL."