[_Chuckleth inwardly._ _First Piscator._ You say true, master. And indeed the other fish, though of lesser bigness, bee by no manner of meanes to be sneezed at. Marry, Master, 'tis none so poor a day's sport after all--considering the weather and the much obstruction, eh? _Second Piscator._ May bee not, may bee not! Stil, I could fain wish, honest scholer, you had safely landed those two bigge ones you lost in Peers' Pool, out of which awkward bit of water, indeed, I could fain desire we might keep _all_ our fish! * * * * * [Illustration: COUNTING THE CATCH. ROSEBERY. "NOT SUCH A BAD DAY AFTER ALL!" HARCOURT. "NO! WISH YOU'D LANDED _THOSE OTHERS_ ALL THE SAME!!"] * * * * * TO A WOULD-BE AUTHORESS. Though, MAUD, I respect your ambition, I fear, to be brutally plain, No proud and exalted position Your stories are likely to gain; [Illustration] And, frankly, I cannot pretend I Regard with the smallest delight The vile _cacoëthes scribendi_ Which led you to write. Your talk is most charming, I know it, You readily fascinate all, But yet as a serious poet Your worth, I'm afraid, is but small; Your features, though well-nigh perfection, Of the obstacle hardly dispose That you haven't the faintest conception Of how to write prose! You think it would be so delightful To see your productions in print? Well, do not consider me spiteful For daring discreetly to hint That in this too-crowded profession, Where prizes are fewer than blanks, You'll find the laconic expression, "Rejected--with thanks." And so, since you do me the pleasure To ask for my candid advice, Allow for your moments of leisure Some other pursuit to suffice; And, if you would really befriend me, One wish I will humbly confess,-- Oh, do not continue to send me Those reams of MS.! * * * * * A MODERN TRAGEDY. Our hostess told us off in pairs, I had not caught my partner's name, But learned, when half way down the stairs, She long had been a Primrose Dame; And, ere the soup was out of sight, She'd found, and left behind, her text on A speech, if I remember right, Attributed to Mr. SEXTON. And I--I sat and gasped awhile, And only when we reached the pheasant, Assuming my politest smile, And with an air distinctly pleasant, Attempted firmly to direct Her flow of talk to other channels, Books--shops--the latest stage-effect-- The newest ways of painting panels. I tried in vain. "Ah, yes," she said, "And that reminds me--this Dissent"-- And thereupon began, instead, Discussing Disestablishment! The case was clearly hopeless, so I hazarded no more suggestions, But merely answered Yes or No At random, to her frequent questions.