So through the Summer Sunday hours The sunbeams slowly steal, Gilding the beer-shop's saw-dust bowers, The cabbage-stalks in lieu of flowers, The trodden orange-peel, Till, calm as heaven, the moon appears, A Sister in a house of tears, Who soothes, but cannot heal. And now the cheap excursionists Come, tired and happy, home, And hear amid the noisy streets The churning of the foam. They've seen the surges rolling in With slow, reluctant roar. Or shouted to the ceaseless din Along the rocky shore; And others in the woodland way, Or on the breezy down, Have gone excursioning astray, While I have stayed in Town, And wished that I was dead and bu-ri-_ed_, For all my Sunday gown. And little BOBBY'S hair is curled By country breezes sweet; And LIZZIE'S heart is full of light, Though heavy are her feet. Father and mother face their plight More hopeful for the treat, And bless the God who made a world Beyond Great Gasworks Street. * * * * * [Illustration] WHERE AND HOW TO SPEND A HAPPY DAY, WEATHER PERMITTING, OF COURSE.--Go to Sevenoaks; lovely drive, see Knole Park and House, drive back _viâ_ Farningham--prettiest place possible, and one that the broken-hearted _Tupman_ might have chosen for his retreat from the madding crowd--to Dartford, where dine at the ancient hostelrie called "The Bull." Recommended by the _Punch_ faculty, the Bull and no mistake. Then up to London, still by road,--if a fine moonlight night, delightful,--and remember the summer day so well spent as "a Knole 'Oliday." * * * * * TOO CLEVER BY HALF. (_BEING QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS CUT ON THE STRAIGHT_.) _Question_. So you have finished your education? _Answer_. Yes, thanks to the liberality of the School Board. _Q._ Do you know more than your parents? _A._ Certainly, as my father was a sweep, and my mother a charwoman. _Q._ Would either occupation suit you? _A._ Certainly not; my aspirations soar above such pursuits, and my health, impaired by excessive study, unfits me for a life of manual labour. _Q._ Kindly tell me what occupation _would_ suit you? _A._ I think I could, with a little cramming, pass the examinations for the Army, the Navy, or the Bar. _Q._ Then why not become an officer in either branch of the United Service, or a Member of one of the Inns of Court? _A._ Because I fear that as a man of neither birth nor breeding, I should be regarded with contempt in either the Camp or the Forum. _Q._ Would you take a clerkship in the City? _A._ Not willingly, as I have enjoyed something better than a commercial education, besides City clerkships are not to be had for the asking. _Q._ Well, would you become a shop-boy or a counter-jumper? _A._ Certainly not; I should deem it a sin to waste my accomplishments (which are many) in filling a situation suggestive of the servants' hall, rather than of the library.