IN THE KNOW. (_BY MR. PUNCH'S OWN PROPHET._) I have had a communication from Mr. JEREMY, written in the execrable English of which this calico-livered scoundrel is a consummate master, and informing me that, if I care to join the staff of the journal which Mr. J. directs, a princely salary shall be at my disposal. Mr. J. inquires what special branch of fiction it would suit me to undertake, as he proposes to publish a serial novel by an author of undoubted imaginative power. Here is my answer to Mr. J. I will do nothing for him. His compliments I despise. Flattery has never yet caused me to falter. And if he desires to prop the tottering fortunes of his chowder-headed rag, let him obtain support from the pasty-faced pack of cacklers who surround him. I would stretch no finger to help him, no, not if I saw him up to his chin in the oleo-margarine of which his brains and those of his bottle-nosed, flounder-eared friends seem to be composed. So much then for Mr. J. _Du reste_, as TALLEYRAND once said, my important duties to the readers of this journal fully absorb my time. Last week I offered to the public some interesting details of the family history of an exalted German prince, whose friendship and good-will it has been my fortune to acquire by means of the dazzling accuracy of my forecasts of racing events in this country. I may state at once that the Grand Cross of the Honigthau Order, "_mit Diamanten und Perlen_," which his Serene Highness was good enough to confer upon me, has come to hand, and even now sparkles on a breast as incapable of deceit as it is ardent in the pursuit of truth. Let this be an incitement to the deserving, and a warning to scoffers who presume to doubt me. Many other gratifying testimonies of foreign approval have reached me. From the immense heap of them stored in my front drawing-room, I select the following specimens:-- (I.) _BUENOS AYRES, MONDAY._ Revolution crushed entirely by your aid. At the crisis, General Pompanilla read _all_ your published writings aloud to insurgent chiefs. Effect was magical. They thought your prophecies _better than ammunition_. Ha, ha! Their widows have fled the country. A pension of a million _pesetas_ awarded to you. Rumours about my resignation a mere blind. (_Signed_) Dr. Celman, _President_. (II.) _BUENOS AYRES, MONDAY._ The traitor Celman has been vanquished, thanks to you. When ammunition failed, we loaded with sporting prophecies. Very deadly. Treasury cleared directly. One of your adjectives annihilated a brigade of infantry. (_Here follow the signatures of the Leaders of the Union Civica, to the number of_ 5,000.) (III.) _GUATEMALA, SUNDAY._ Victorious army of Guatemala sends thanks to its brave champion. Your inspired writings have been set to music, and are sung as national hymns. Effect on San Salvadorians terrible. Only two deaf sergeants left alive. _Guerra, Vittoria Matador, Mantilla_. (_Signed_) BARILLAS, _President_. (IV.) _SAN SALVADOR, SUNDAY._