* * * * * "American eggs arriving at Manchester yesterday were quoted from 27s. 6d. to 28s. per 120, which caused Irish eggs to be reduced from sixpence to a shilling."--_Daily Paper_. Very Irish eggs. * * * * * "12 Feet Corsets at a ridiculous price of Re. 1 each, all sizes."--_Advt. in "Advocate of India."_ "A ridiculous price," says the advertiser, but "an absurd figure" would have been even better. * * * * * "The Examiners appointed by the Board of the Faculty of Natural Science give notice that Wilfrid Dyson Hambly, Jesus College, having submitted a dissertation on 'Tattooing and other forms of body-marking among primitive peoples,' will be publicly examined on Monday, November 12, at 2.30 p.m., in the Department of Social Anthropology, Barnett House."--_Oxford University Gazette_. We trust he showed, and obtained, full marks. * * * * * TO ATTILA'S UNDERSTUDY. [Reuter reports that a British prisoner has been sentenced to a year's imprisonment for calling Germans "Huns."] The choice was yours, we understood. We thought that, when you wished to cater For China's spiritual good, This name received your imprimatur; "Go forth," you said, "my sons! Go and behave exactly like the Huns!" Though under any other name, However alien to their nature, Your people would have smelt the same, We let you choose their nomenclature, And studiously respected The one that in your wisdom you selected. And now, when someone, clearly set On flattering you by imitation, Applies that chosen epithet To certain units of your nation, It seems a little odd That you should go and clap him into quod. Perhaps you've come to hold the view That when you claimed to touch their level You were unfair to heathens who Candidly called their god a devil; Who fought some barbarous fights, But fought at least according to their lights. So Huns are off. Who takes their place? Well, since no beast on earth would stick it If after him we named your race, We'll call you Germans--there's your ticket; Just Germans--that's a style Which can't offend the other vermin's bile. O. S. * * * * * NIGHTMARES. II. OF A T.B.D. CAPTAIN, WHO DREAMS THAT HE HAS FOUND HIS LOG BOOK MADE UP BY MR. PH*L*P G*BBS.