A NEW TRACT FOR THE SALVATION ARMY.--The "General," who is the biggest BOOTH in the show, announced last week that he had been offered a big tract of land. Hear! Hear! Where? Where? "Anywhere, anywhere out of the world "--at least, out of our little world of Great Britain & Co. Let not "the General" be too particular, but accept the tract,--though he is more used to distributing tracts than accepting them,--and let him and his army, his lads and lasses, go away and leave us to enjoy our Sundays in peace and quiet. * * * * * NEW CITY FIRM (_adapted from West End by Our Own Scotchman_).--"SAVORY AND MAYOR." * * * * * [Illustration: SKY-SIGNS IN THE COUNTRY. (AS SEEN BY OUR ARTIST IN SEARCH OF THE PICTURESQUE.)] * * * * * [Illustration: NOSTALGIA. "YOU SEEM OUT OF SORTS, JAMES, EVER SINCE WE'VE COME NORTH. IT'S THE CHANGE OF CLIMATE AND SCENERY, I S'POSE!" "IT'S WUSS NOR THAT, MARIAR. IT'S THE CHANGE OF BEER!"] * * * * * VOCES POPULI. AN EVENING WITH A CONJUROR. SCENE--_A Suburban Hall. The Performance has not yet begun. The Audience is limited, and low-spirited, and may perhaps number--including the Attendants--eighteen. The only people in the front seats are, a man in full evening dress, which he tries to conceal under a caped cloak, and two Ladies in plush opera-cloaks. Fog is hanging about in the rafters, and the gas-stars sing a melancholy dirge. Each casual cough arouses dismal echoes. Enter an intending Spectator, who is conducted to a seat in the middle of an empty row. After removing his hat and coat, he suddenly thinks better--or worse--of it, puts them on again, and vanishes hurriedly._ _First Sardonic Attendant (at doorway_). Reg'lar turnin' em away to-night, _we_ are! _Second Sardonic Attendant_. He come up to me afore he goes to the pay-box, and sez he--"Is there a seat left?" he sez. And I sez to 'im, "Well, I _think_ we can manage to squeeze you in somewhere." Like that, I sez. [_The Orchestra, consisting of two thin-armed little girls, with pigtails, enter, and perform a stumbling Overture upon a cracked piano_. Herr Von KAMBERWOHL, _the Conjuror, appears on platform, amidst loud clapping from two obvious Confederates in a back row._