Then cultivate him all you can, With him and his stand well in; There's one that is a _Nobleman_, There's one _Sir John Llewellyn_. There's one that is a _British Queen_, There's one a dwarf, _Ashleaf_, There's one that is a plain _Colleen_, There's one an _Arran Chief_. He'll serve us if we do him well (Last year he failed our foes). Oh, who can all the praises tell Of good Sol Tuberose! W.B. * * * * * THE REVENANT. "CAPTAIN STANLEY WILSON'S RETURN HOME. "CHEERFUL AND WELL AFTER LONG INTERMENT."--_Yorkshire Post_. * * * * * "Gentleman, 30, offers 10/- weekly, own laundry, and help with children, refined country home. No needlework."--_The Lady_. Slacker! * * * * * Letter sent by a soldier's wife to the Army Pay Department:-- "I am sending you my marage sertificate and six children there were seven but won died. You only sent six back her name was fanny and was baptised on a half sheet of paper by the reverend Thomas." * * * * * [Illustration: _Officer (on leave)._ "SO YOU'RE STILL ALIVE, PETER?" _Peter._ "YES, SIR--AN' I'M GOIN' TO SEE ANOTHER CHRISTMAS, SIR. YOU SEE, SIR, I'VE ALWAYS NOTICED THAT WHEN I LIVE THROUGH THE MONTH OF AUGUST I LIVE OUT THE WHOLE YEAR."] * * * * * A CENTENARY. JOHN LEECH. _BORN AUGUST 29TH_, 1817. I.--TO OUR GREATEST CONTRIBUTOR. JOHN LEECH, a hundred years ago, When you were born and after, There shone a sort of kindly glow Of airy fun and laughter; It was a sound that seemed to sing, A universal humming That made the echoing rafters ring And so proclaimed your coming. It was not noted at the time: I was not there to note it, But now I set it down in rhyme That other men may quote it And still maintain the thing is true, Defying Wisdom's strictures, And lose all doubt by looking through A book of LEECH'S pictures. You drew our English country-folk As many others saw them-- The simple life, the simple joke, But only you could draw them; The warp and woof of country joys In green and pleasant places; The mischievous and merry boys, The girls with shining faces. The Squires, the Centaurs of the chase And all the chase's patrons, Each in his own, his ordered place; The comfortable matrons-- These were your stuff, and these your skill Consigned to future ages, And caught and set them down at will In Mr. Punch's pages. Besides, you bound us to your praise With many strong indentures By limning Mr. Briggs, his ways And countless misadventures. For these and many a hundred more, Far as our voice can reach, Sir, We send it out from shore to shore, And bless your name, JOHN LEECH, Sir. R.C.L. II.--HISTORIAN AND PROPHET.