_Witness._ We do our best, Sir. You must remember the Corporation has not been in possession very long. We have to protect nearly ten square miles of forest land, close to a city whose population is counted by Millions. _The Commissioner._ Very true. Can I do anything more for you? _Witness._ Nothing, Sir. Pray accept my thanks for affording me this opportunity of offering an explanation. I trust the explanation is satisfactory? _The Commissioner._ Perfectly. (_The Witness then withdrew._) * * * * * THE OCTOPUS OF ROMANCE AND REALITY. (AS MUCH FACT AS FANCY.) [Illustration: "I had one curried, and found it most excellent--something like tender tripe."--_Extract from Mr. Tuer's Letter_.] "Devil-fish" of VICTOR HUGO, Dread _Pieuvre_ of caves where few go But are made your palsied prey, Where are now your gruesome glories, Dwelt upon in shocking stories? Realism a big bore is "Octopus is cheap to-day!" You who, worst of ocean's gluttons, Swallowed man, his boots, and buttons, Cooked in this familiar way? You who, in the tales of dreamers, Sucked down ships and swallowed steamers, Made the prey of kitchen schemers? "Octopus _is_ cheap to-day!" Swallowed, _you_ colossal cuttle? Nemesis is really subtle! Carted on the Coster's tray, Dressed in fashions culinary, Which the cunning _chef_ will vary After every vain vagary? "Octopus is cheap to-day!" Your huge arms, so strong, so many, Like tarantula's _antennae_, Just like tenderest tripe, they say! Only wait a little longer, Turtle soup--as from the Conger-- They will make from _you_, but stronger. "Octopus is cheap to-day!" Octopus--or is't Oct[=o]pus?-- Fame, that should outshine CANOPUS, All too swiftly fleets away. Yet our feelings it must harrow, That _your_ demon-fame should narrow To cook-bench and coster barrow. "Devil-fish is cheap to-day!" * * * * * SALUBRITIES ABROAD. ("Is this the Hend?"--_Miss Squeers_.) [Illustration] SKURRIE puts us in the train, gives us our COOK'S tickets all ready stamped and dated. No trouble. Then he insists on comparing his notes of our route with mine, to see that all is correct. "Wednesday," he says, "that's to-day. Geneva _dep_. 12, Bale _arr_. 7.45." He speaks a _Bradshaw_ abbreviated language. "Change twice, perhaps three times, Lausanne, Brienne, Olten. Not quite sure; but you must look out." Oh, the trouble and anxiety of looking out for where you change! "Then," he goes on, "Thursday, Bale _dep_. 9.2 A.M., Heidelberg _arr_. 1.55." "Any change?" I ask, as if I wanted twopence out of a shilling.