In an interesting description (that appeared in the _Times_ for Saturday, February 27) of the working of the "Jacquard Card-Preparing Machine," which is, it appears, "a machine for superseding the human brain, eye, and hand"--(so that soon all who can afford it will be fitted up with these machines, and keep their brains, eyes, and hands in reserve for very special occasions)--it was stated that "the blank cards are automatically fed to the punches." That punches should be spelt without the capital P is of course a Printer's error, deserving capital punishment. _Mr. P._ thinks it right to state in answer to numerous inquiries, that all his _Punches_ speak by the card. But as to even the smallest of the _Punch_ family being "fed" on cards, or getting his or her living by cards, the statement is utterly at variance with the facts. _Mr. P._ is quite sure that the "Jacquard Automatic Reading and Punching Syndicate" will at once retract the injurious statement, or the youthful, vigorous and pugnacious _Punches_ will be inquiring of _Mr. P._, as _Sam Weller_ did of _Mr. Pickwick_ when that gentleman's great name was apparently taken in vain, "Ain't nobody to be whopped for takin' this here liberty?" that is, adapting the question to the present occasion, "Ain't nobody's head to be Punch'd for this mis-use of an ancient and honourable name?" * * * * * THE NAIL-MAKERS' STRIKE.--They refuse to work unless higher wages are paid "down on the nail." * * * * * [Illustration: A "HUNTING FIXTURE." HUNG UP ON A STILE, AND HOUNDS RUNNING LIKE MAD.] * * * * * CRIES WITHOUT WOOL. NO. II.--THE GROWL OF THE BEAR. (_BY A SINGER IN_ "_AIR_.") ["In consequence of the rumour that,... American stocks declined heavily.... The rumour proved totally without foundation."--_Any Money-article; any day._] [Illustration] There is little that goads us with fiercer despair (Those who buy, you perpend, stock, debenture or share, Such as speculate mainly; investors are rare--) Than this growl ill-conditioned of pestilent Bear! With a craftiness planned and a malice unfair, Improvising a scare unsubstantial as air-- Now it's "war," now "disease," and the world must prepare For the death of, say, GOULD, or a Chilian flare; Or the "cutting of rates:" I am quite unaware What it means, I declare, but it's "cutting," I swear, To a person like me, not a flush millionaire Who must "realise" scrip,--and the canker of care. It would seem, we could e'er so conveniently spare From a world too competitive, blarneyed with blare, Both the Yankee of Wall-Street, his London _confrère_, And all criers of "Lost!" when no losses are there; All the wreckers, whose lair is secure past compare, All who batten on bones with a maw debonair, And the carcase of Poverty torture and tear With historical fraud, and benevolent glare.