"Not so bad as mine," grumbled the Artist. "Haven't sold a single picture since the Jubilee year, and can't afford to pay the frame-maker. My studio is full of paintings, and the dealers say that there isn't a single canvas amongst the lot but what would be refused admission to an Exhibition of Sign-boards! Don't know how I should have kept body and soul together if it hadn't been for an opportune loan from one who in happier times was, in my employment as a model. Talk about prospects! Look at mine!" [Illustration: Bulls and Bears. City Men.] "Well, come, you are better off than I am," said the City Man. "If I hadn't now and again to appear before the Registrar in the Bankruptcy Court, I don't know what I should do with my time! I am stone broke. That's about it--stone broke! Knocked out of the 'House,' and without a scrap of credit: I am done for!" And it was agreed that none of them had any prospects. Then they separated, or rather, were on the eve of separating. "By the way--fancy forgetting to do it!" said one of them. And then they rectified the omission, and wished one another, "A Happy New Year!" [Illustration: The latest Kangaroo Development.] * * * * * [Illustration: DRAWN BLANK. _Huntsman._ "HOW IS IT YOU NEVER HAVE ANY FOXES HERE NOW?" _Keeper_ (_who has orders to shoot them_). "PHEASANTS HAVE EAT 'EM ALL!"] * * * * * THE FEAST OF REASON UP TO DATE. The old Alchemist smiled as he watched the crucible on the glowing coals. The fumes rose, and he inhaled them with delight. It was a triumph. Yes, he was able to go forth a conqueror. It mattered not where he wandered, for all flew from before him. He seemed to possess some subtle power that no one understood, but which was all-conquering. After a lengthened absence he returned to England. At his Club he met one of his friends--a doctor. "I will tell you my adventures," said the old Alchemist, lighting a strong cigar. "You must know----" "I know everything," said the Physician, sternly. "I know why you have scared the Arabs, and why disease cannot touch you. The secret is revealed by a recent _Lancet_. You can brave disease and death, because _you are fond of eating onions_!" Seeing that his secret was known, the old Alchemist heaved a heavy sigh, and disappeared, perchance for ever! * * * * * [Illustration: A PRIME CUT. _Mrs. Fidget_ (_who has been fingering all the Joints for some time_). "CAN YOU GUARANTEE THIS TO BE WELSH MUTTON?" _Butcher's Assistant._ "CERTAINLY WE CAN, MUM; BUT IF YOU GO 'ANDLING IT MUCH LONGER, IT'LL BE _IRISH STOO_ DIRECTLY!"] * * * * * THE PLEA OF THE POSTMAN. All work and no play Makes a dull boy; so they say, Proverb-mongers, pretty bards. "All play," may be, worse I'll bet 'em! If they doubt my word, then let 'em Try _my_ hand at (Christmas) Cards! _Punch in reply._