Yes, "Knickers" are the proper dress Wherewith a Cycle's seat to press; Convenient, and--should you be thrown-- Making less re-ve-la-ti-on; There's less of danger, aye, and dirt. Attending the divided skirt. I will not say I wholly _like_ To see my JULIA on a "bike": I will not say that I should _choose_ To see CORINNA don the trews; But yet, if either beauty feel That she is _bound_ to cycle-wheel, (Like to a she-Ixion) then, Since ladies aim to ride like men, 'Tis clear that all experience teaches That it is best to wear knee-breeches, And drop the prejudice that doth dote On the tempestuous petticoat. A skirt that catcheth here and there, And leaves a stretch of stocking bare, Raiments that ruck, and cause thereby The wheels to move confusedly;-- All these be awkward follies, sure, Compared with dual garmenture. Knickers and leggings, by-and-by, With their unfeigned simplicity, Will more bewitch us--on a "bike"-- Than flowing skirts we now do like! * * * * * [Illustration: MAKING THINGS SMOOTH. _Keeper (to Sportsmen, who have just fired all four barrels without touching a feather)._ "DEARY ME! UNCOMMON STRONG ON THE WING BIRDS IS, GENTLEMEN! 'STONISHING AMOUNT O' SHOT THEY CARRIES AWAY WITH 'EM TO BE SURE!"] * * * * * THE "AUTOMATIC" CONSCIENCE. [A late report of the Automatic Machine Company says that out of every twelve coins placed in the slot _two are bad_.] _Average "Honest Man" loq.:_-- Put a penny in the slot? That is simply tommy-rot! If _I_ want a cigarette, Or some butter scotch, you bet, If _I_ put a penny in, 'Tis a _bad_ one! Bits of tin, Workmen's tickets, discs of zinc, Aught that's rounded and will chink, Chips of copper filed to size, Tokens, counters--all I tries. Takes a lot o' trouble, too, To fake up a reglar "do." So for nix I often get Butter scotch or cigarette. Oh! it is a splendid joke! I should like to see the bloke When he turns 'em out! Oh lor! Twenty per cent. are shams--or more! _Honest?_ Wot? To a _machine_? You must think me jolly green! The machine can't cop or blow! Automatics do not know. If I pop a "Frenchy" in, Or a lump of brass or tin, Who's to tell that I do _not_ Put a penny in the slot? * * * * * IN THE PRESS.--_The Cruelty of the Jap._ By the Author of _The Kindness of the Celestial_. * * * * * A LITTLE FLIRTATION. SCENE--_The "Gothenburg Arms," under new (Municipal) Management, licensed for the sale of liquors for the public profit only._ Mr. G., _an elderly but cheerful and chatty customer, and_ Miss JOSEPHINE, _a smart barmaid, discovered conversing across the counter_. _Miss Joe (aside)._ Why, here is that chirpy old josser again! I wonder, now, what is his little game _here_?