Upon the middle of the night, Waking, he heard a stunning row; Some jolly cocks sang out till light, And would not keep still anyhow. He wished to bribe, but had no change Within his pockets, all forlorn, And so he kept awake till morn Within that lonely Bow Street grange. He only said, "The cell is dreary;" "Bail cometh not," he said; He said, "I must be very beery, I'd rather be in bed!" All night within that gloomy cell The keys within the padlock creaked; The tipsy 'gents' bawled out as well, And in the dungeons yelled and shrieked. Policeman slyly prowled about; Their faces glimmered through the door, But brought not, though he did implore, One humble glass of cold without. He only said, "The night is dreary;" "Bail cometh not," he said; He said, "I have been very beery, I would I were in bed!" At morn, the noise of boys aloof, Inspectors' orders, and the chaff Of cads upon the busses' roof, To Poplar bound, too much by half Did prove; but most he loathed the hour When Mr. Jardine chose to say Five shillings he would have to pay, Now he was in policeman's power. Then said he, "This is very dreary;" "Bail will not come," he said; He said, "I'll never more get beery, But go straight home to bed!" THE SCHOOL OF DESIGN. In chronicling the designs of this school for the past and forthcoming year, we cannot fall in with the abuse lavished upon it by some of our contemporaries. We believe, from many others, that the following will be most likely to interest our readers:— A design for a new dance against next season, by the Terpsichorean professors, to meet the depression in their trade, since everybody knew the Polka. A design of the journalists of England to make the gentlemen of the bar understand their proper position. A design of the journalists of France to attribute their thrashing in Algeria to the gold of "perfide Albion." A design of the _Times_ newspaper to expose the railway swindles and burst all the bubbles. A design of certain medical students against the knockers and bell-pulls near Guy's and St. Thomas's. A design for a human oven, to enable savage aborigines to cook their victims instead of eating them raw, by Colonel Pelissier; a laudable attempt to exhibit the refinements of French colonization. THE ZODIAC-AUGUST. VIRGO.—THE OLD MAID.