_Q._ Have you visited a Music-Hall? _A._ Emphatically no, and don't want to. _Q._ Then why do you complain of them? _A._ Because my imagination pictures them as indescribably horrible. _Q._ How comes it that knowing so little, you have been sent to adjudicate upon so much? _A._ Because I was elected by the know-nothings of the district I have the honour to represent. _Q._ And what became of the rest of the constituency? _A._ You mean the majority--oh, they didn't take the trouble to register their votes. _Q._ Then you are the mouthpiece of ignorance and incompetence? _A._ Certainly--but that is not a pretty way of putting it! [Illustration] * * * * * On the Speculative Builder. He's the readiest customer living, While you're lending, or spending, or giving; But when you'd make profit, or get back your own, He's the awkwardest customer ever you've known. [Illustration: "Hodman Hout!"] SONG AT CHRISTMAS.--"_Then Yule Remember Me!_" * * * * * "ANECDOTAGE." _Companion Volume to other Works of the same kind._ The Duke of WELLINGTON never could persuade GEORGE THE FOURTH that he was not present at Waterloo. One day his MAJESTY, talking over the table, said to his Grace, "I perfectly well remember your crying to the Grenadiers, 'Up, Guards, and at them!'" "Yes, Sire," replied the Duke, "so I have been told before." The King smiled at the jest, but never forgave the carefully-concealed sarcasm. * * * * * REFUGE FOR EGOTISTS.--"The Eye Hospital." The Specialist who attends should be Member for Eye. * * * * * ODE TO SAPONACEA. Who claims my strongest missing noun, When sheets as soft and white as down, Return in colour yellowy-brown? My Laundress! Who by her science can convert My best and most expensive shirt Into a miracle of dirt? My Laundress! Who, when my collars come back frayed, Receives my protests undismayed, And merely wishes to be paid? My Laundress! Who spite of warnings that one gives, Turns cambric kerchiefs into sieves, Or ragged trellis-work--and lives! My Laundress! Who at the wash-tub, truth to tell, Is partly fraud and partly sell, Yet does her "mangling" very well? My Laundress! [Illustration] * * * * * THE POET'S LOVE. My Lady's name I cannot state, At different times I greet her As CHLOE, AMARYLLIS, KATE, According to the metre; I've called her MABEL many a time,-- A name which leads itself to rhyme. My Lady's hair is sometimes black To match her sable dresses, At others falls about her back In glorious auburn tresses, Yet do not take me to imply She's given to the use of dye.