_Master J. H._ You may be sure we did! POLLY was a little frightened at first; but when we found that the Royal Dane Boarhound and the Horse didn't mind him a bit, why we didn't mind either. Isn't it wonderful? Oh, you ought to go and see them. They are prime! * * * * * BARNUM'S MOTTO.--"_Tout a fait La Shows._" * * * * * MUZZLED AND PUZZLED; OR, "LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG." (_A Carol of Kentish Conservatism. Some way after Goldsmith._) [Illustration] _Good Tories all, of County Kent, Give ear unto my song, And spare your puerile intent To do your Party wrong._ * * * * There was a mighty Minister, To power appointed late; A virtuous and valiant _Vir_, A Pillar of the State. If one who doth fat oxen drive Should in himself be fat, This Minister seemed bound to thrive As to his post most pat. A more bucolic personage Bucolics never sang; And when he took that post and wage, All round his praises rang. O'er Agriculture to preside, CHAPLIN was surely born; He bore his honours with the pride Of Chanticleer at morn. In Kent there were some Tories found, For Tories still there be; In fact, the species doth abound In spite of W. G. CHAPLIN and they at first were friends, But when a feud began They--whom a little thing offends-- Rounded on that good man. The motto of these Men of Kent Was, "Love me, love my Dog;" And soon with angry discontent The County was agog. For CHAPLIN--it was like his cheek, Cockiest of Ministers!-- Quite supererogant, did seek To muzzle Kentish Curs! Around to all the counties near An angry protest ran; To touch a Kentish dog, 'tis clear, Touches a Kentish Man. Fanatic lovers of the hound Scorn hygienic laws, And though their dogs should snap all round You must not bind their jaws. Restraint appeared both sore and sad To every Kentish eye, And, whilst they swore the Man was mad, They swore the Dogs would die. Nay, more, there came _this_ fearsome threat From true-blue Tory throats: "With muzzles if our dogs you fret, _You shall not have our votes!_" O patriots true! Rads grin with glee! The puzzle CHAPLIN fogs; 'Tis plain that Party loyalty Is going to the dogs! Kent's choice 'twixt Party seems, and pup, The question stirs the town, Whether the Tories will give up, Or CHAPLIN will climb down! * * * * * [Illustration: STUDIES IN REPARTEE. _Heavyside_ (_Author of "Epaminondas" and other unread Epics_). "BY THE BYE, HOW MUCH DO _YOU_ WEIGH, BINKS?" _Little Binks._ "FOURTEEN STONE!" _Heavyside._ "DEAR ME! YOU DON'T LOOK VERY BIG, TO WEIGH ALL THAT!" _Little Binks._ "'_EPAMINONDAS_' DOESN'T _LOOK_ VERY BIG--BUT IT'S PRECIOUS HEAVY!"] * * * * * SLAPS FOR SLIPPERS.