"My Irish friend," said _Mr. Punch_, gravely, but not severely, "do not talk nonsense. Your carriage is clean, your horse is rapid, you are civil, and your fare is certain. In London, we have as yet neither clean carriages, rapid horses, civil drivers, nor certain fares. We may learn those lessons of you. Learn two from us. Do not believe in luck, but practice perseverance; and do not call that money dirty which is the well-earned pay of honest service. To sweeten the advice, there is a shilling." And _Mr. Punch_ entered the Exhibition building, and was drawing out his purse at the turnstile. But two gigantic policemen, in soldierly garb, welcomed him with a respectful smile, and the turnstile suddenly spun him into the building gratis, but a little too fast for dignity. What a sight was that before him! The vast hall, with its blue lines and red labels, looked a handsome instalment of Paxtonia. Plashing fountains, murmuring organs, a MAROCHETTI Queen high pedestalled, white statues, glistering silver-blazoned banners. A fine and a noble sight, and worthy of all plaudit; but it was not that which almost bewildered the great patriot, as he was shot into Dargania. Those eyes again--two thousand pairs at least--Irish diamonds, worth mines of Koh-i-noors, suddenly flashing and sparkling and melting upon him. That telegraph message from the Octagon Hall--and, as they say in the Peers' House, "and the Ladies summoned." Staggered though he was, you do not often see such a bow as that with which _Mr. Punch_ did homage to his lovely hostesses. Two of the fairest stepped forward gracefully, and blushingly proffered themselves as his guides through the building. "Chiefly, that I may set them in my prayers," murmured _Mr. Punch_, "if you happen to have names----" Those blue eyes belong to HONORA, and those violet eyes to GRACE, and all to _Mr. Punch's_ heart henceforth and until further notice. They proceeded, and there was a sound as of a great rustling, as of a world of feminine garments forming into procession and following, but it was vain for _Mr. Punch_ to think of looking round, for he never got further than the face of one or other of his companions. They paraded the building.