"Three weeks have I been on my back!"-- _Take care!_ You don't want to _renew_ the rack. Beware! Beware! East winds are out, They'll be cooling thee! "It is a _beast_ of a complaint!"-- _Take care!_ Don't storm! Your pulse is fluttering, faint. Beware! Beware! Worry not, Think of _syncope_! "Tush! Taking Care's the awfullest worry!"-- _Take care!_ For "Complications" punish hurry. Beware! Beware! Resist him not, Who'd be ruling thee! Keep warm indoors, take lots of rest. _Take care_! That of all counsels is _the_ best. Beware! Beware! _Out_? Cert'nly _not_! For two weeks--or _three_! [_Left fuming._ * * * * * "ON THE SLY."--The name of Mr. J.E. SLY was mentioned in the _World_ last week as a candidate for the office of High Bailiff of the City of London Court. Quite a Shakspearian name is _Sly_. "Look in the Chronicles," quoth _Christopher_ of that ilk, "We came in with RICHARD Conqueror." We drink success to him in "a pot of the smallest ale" and "Let the _World_ slip,"--whether it did slip or not, the event will prove,--"We shall ne'er be younger." * * * * * "CHARLES, HIS FRIENDS."--The Gentlemen who sought to adorn King CHARLES's statue with wreaths on the 30th January, are not to be beheaded. Like the White Rose League, their Jacobark is worse than their Jacobite. * * * * * ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. [Illustration: (H)] _House of Commons, Tuesday, February_ 9.--House met to-day for what, the SAGE OF QUEEN ANNE'S GATE tells me, must needs be last Session of present Parliament. Appropriately funereal air over scene and proceedings. Usually Members return to work in highest spirits. Remember, in years gone by, before the blight of neglect in high places fell upon him, how dear old PETER RYLANDS enjoyed himself on these occasions. What long strides he used to take, bustling to and fro! What thunderous slaps of friendly welcome he bestowed on shrinking shoulders! What digs of deep and subtle humour he dealt to unresponsive ribs! If PETER were with us to-day, it is probable that even his effervescence of natural spirits would droop under prevalent gloom. The familiar place is a House of Mourning. Members tread softly, lest they should disturb the sick or wake the dead. Everyone has had the influenza, fears he is going to catch it, or mourns someone whom it has snatched away. When SPEAKER took Chair and business commenced, a glance round crowded benches brought back memory of much that has happened in the Recess. "'Tis not alone this inky cloak, good TOBY, worn in sign of public mourning," said WILFRID LAWSON, strangely subdued; "the House of Commons has had its losses."