"_The Campaign against the Jebus. Gallant Advance of the British._" Dear old Mrs. RAM wants to know "who is commanding the British forces in the campaign against the Jebus" (which she spells "Gibus")? _Mr. Punch_ is glad to inform his estimable correspondent that the principal officers commanding in the Gibus Campaign are Generals WIDE-AWAKE, BILLICOCK, JIMCROW, POTT, and BELTOPPER. Their strategical movements are worthy of the First Nap. * * * * * CONSIDERATE.--Arrangements are to be made for all Standing Committees in future to sit at certain hours. "For this relief, much thanks," as WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, M.P., observed. * * * * * [Illustration: RECIPROCAL. _Sporting Gentleman._ "WELL, SIR, I'M VERY PLEASED TO HAVE MADE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE, AND HAD THE OPPORTUNITY OF HEARING A CHURCHMAN'S VIEWS ON THE QUESTION OF TITHES. OF COURSE, AS A COUNTRY LANDOWNER, I'M INTERESTED IN CHURCH MATTERS, AND--" _The Parson._ "QUITE SO--DELIGHTED, I'M SURE. ER--BY THE BYE, COULD YOU TELL ME _WHAT'S WON TO-DAY_?"] * * * * * THE BURIAL OF THE "BROAD-GAUGE." MAY 23, 1892. ["Drivers of Broad-Gauge Engines wandering disconsolately about with their engine-lamps in their hands; followed by their firemen with pick and shovel over their shoulder, waiting in anxious expectation of the time when that new-fangled machine, a narrow-gauge engine, should come down a day or two after."--_Times' Special at Plymouth on Death of Broad Gauge._] Not a whistle was heard, not a brass bell-note, As his corse o'er the sleepers we hurried; Not a fog-signal wailed from a husky throat O'er the grave where our "Broad-Gauge" we buried. We buried him darkly, at dead of night, The sod with our pickaxes turning, By the danger-signal's ruddy light, And our oil-lamps dimly burning. No useless tears, though we loved him well! Long years to his fire-box had bound us. We fancied we glimpsed the great shade of BRUNEL, In sad sympathy hovering round us. Few and gruff were the words we said, But we thought, with a natural sorrow, Of the Narrow-Gauge foe of the Loco. just dead, _We_ should have to attend on the morrow. We thought, as we hollowed his big broad bed, And piled the brown earth o'er his funnel, How his foe o'er the Great-Western metals would tread, Shrieking triumph through cutting and tunnel. Lightly they'll talk of him now he is gone, For the cheap "Narrow Gauge" has outstayed him, Yet BULL _might_ have found, had he let it go on, That BRUNEL's Big Idea would have paid him! But the battle is ended, our task is done; After forty years' fight he's retiring.[1] This hour sees thy triumph, O STEPHENSON; Old "Broad Gauge" no more will need firing.