* * * * * [Illustration: EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES. _The Old Lady of Threadneedle Street._ "GO AWAY! GO AWAY WITH YOUR NASTY MONEY! I CAN'T DO WITH ANY MORE OF IT!"] * * * * * [Illustration: ON THE SAFE SIDE. _Brown._ "BY GEORGE, JONES, THAT'S A HANDSOME UMBRELLA! WHERE DID YOU GET IT?" _Jones._ "I DECLINE TO ANSWER UNTIL I'VE CONSULTED MY LAWYER!"] * * * * * THE NEW AIR. (_To an Old Tune._) O RAYLEIGH now, this _raelly_ strange is This New Nitrogen! Air that into water changes Seem not new to men, (All our atmosphere this summer Has been "heavy wet,") But sheer solid air seems rummer, More Munchausenish yet! New things now are awfully common; And it seems but fair, With New Humour, Art, and Woman, We should have New Air. "Lazy air," one calls it gaily; Seasonable, very! Will it quiet us, dear RAYLEIGH, Soothe us, make us merry? Still the flurry, cool the fever, Calm the nervous stress? If it be so, you for ever _Punch_ will praise and bless. Will the New Air set--oh! grand Sir!-- Life to a new tune? Lead us to a Lotos-Land, Sir, Always afternoon? One per cent. seems rather little! Can't you make it more? When 'tis solid is it brittle? Liquid, does it _pour_? RAYLEIGH? No? You don't say so! What lots of funny things you know! * * * * * THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A BAD GERMAN BAND AND A BEATEN CRICKET TEAM.--One fails to play in time and the other to "play out time." * * * * * LYRE AND LANCET. (_A Story in Scenes._) PART VIII.--SURPRISES--AGREEABLE AND OTHERWISE. SCENE XIII.--_The Amber Boudoir._ Sir RUPERT _has just entered._ _Sir Rupert._ Ha, MAISIE, my dear, glad to see you. Well, ROHESIA, how are you, eh? You're _looking_ uncommonly well! No idea you were here! _Spurrell (to himself)._ Sir RUPERT! He'll have me out of this pretty soon, I expect! _Lady Cantire (aggrieved)._ We have been in the house for the best part of an hour, RUPERT--as you might have discovered by inquiring--but no doubt you preferred your comfort to welcoming a guest who was merely your sister! _Sir Rup. (to himself)._ Beginning already! (_Aloud._) Very sorry--got rather wet riding--had to change everything. And I knew ALBINIA was here. _Lady Cant. (magnanimously)._ Well, we won't begin to quarrel the moment we meet; and you are forgetting your other guest. (_In an undertone._) Mr. SPURRELL--the Poet--wrote _Andromeda_. (_Aloud._) Mr. SPURRELL, come and let me present you to my brother. _Sir Rup._ Ah, how d'ye do? (_To himself, as he shakes hands._) What the deuce am I to say to this fellow? (_Aloud._) Glad to see you here, Mr. SPURRELL--heard all about you--_Andromeda_, eh? Hope you'll manage to amuse yourself while you're with us; afraid there's not much you can do _now_ though.