Now, some ten minutes back, You'd have seen little JACK From an Aërated Bread Shop emerge, And proceed down the Strand-- Slice of cake in his hand-- In a crumb-covered suit of blue serge. To be perfectly frank, He was bound for the Bank, For it chanced to be dividend day, And he jumped on the 'bus, After reasoning thus-- In his logical juvenile way:-- "Here's a 'bus passing by, And I cannot see why I should weary my infantile feet; I've a copper to spare, And the authorised fare Is a penny to Liverpool Street." As the 'bus cantered on, Little cake-eating JOHN In the corner contentedly sat, And with that one and this (Whether Mister or Miss) Had a meteorological chat. Came a bolt from the blue When, collecting his due, The conductor remarked, "Though I thank That young cake-eating gent For the penny he's sent, It's a _tuppenny_ ride to the Bank!" "You're a pirate!" sobbed JACK, "And your colours are black!" But he heard--as he struggled to speak-- The conductor observe, With remarkable verve, That he didn't want none of his cheek! With a want of regard, He demanded JACK's card. And young HORNER was summoned next day, When the poor little lad Lost the battle, and had All the costs in addition to pay. Now the Moral is this: Little Master and Miss, Whom I'm writing these verses to please; If your tiny feet ache, Then a 'bus you may take, _But be sure it's an L.G.O.C.'s!_ * * * * * A CURSORY OBSERVATION. From the _Figaro_ for Dimanche, April 17, we make this extract:-- "SPORTS ATHLÉTIQUES.--Le match international de foot ball entre le Stade Français et le Rosslyn Park foot ball Club de Londres sera joué demain sur le terrain du Cursing Club de France à Levallois. L'équipe anglaise est arrivée à Paris hier soir. Le match sera présidé par le marquis de Dufferin." "The Cursing Club!" What an awful name! For what purpose are they banded together? Is it to curse one another by their gods? to issue forth on _premières_ to damn a new play? What fearful language would be just audible, curses, not loud but deep, during the progress of the Foot-ball Match over which the Marquis of DUFFERIN is to preside! It is all over by now; but the result we have not seen. We hope there is no Cursing Club in England. There existed, once upon a time, in London, a Club with an awful Tartarian name, which might have been a parent society to a Cursing Club. Let us trust--