(_By a Mathematical Bard._)
Ah, spooks of EUCLID, NEWTON, weep for me,
For I'm a miserably blighted biped!
And here's the cause--I wrote an ode, you see,
Alluding to a parallel_e_piped.
I'd spelt my polysyllable all right,
The blessed word I hoped would make me famous;
The vulgar error I'd avoided quite,
And thought no one _could_ call me "ignoramus."
It safely passed in proof through each "revise";
But didn't I _rave_, when I my book inspected,
And found it by some printer over-wise
To "parallel_o_piped" miscorrected!
* * * * *
MR. PUNCH'S CRITICISM ON JOHN DAVIDSON'S LATEST PRODUCTION.--"It ain't
all Lavender."
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE UNEMPLOYED.
_Plumber Joe._ "IF THESE 'ERE PIPES 'UD ONLY BUST, THERE'D BE A
CHARNCE OF A JOB FOR ME!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: THROUGH STRESS OF WEATHER.
_Tommy_ (_after contemplating the Horses in front of him_). "I SHALL
HUNT ON CAWIDGE HORSES WHEN I'S A MAN, JOHN! _THEY_ HASN'T EAT ANY OF
THEIR HEADS OFF, LIKE WHAT HUNTERS ALWAYS DOES IN FROSTY WEATHER, HAS
THEY?"]
* * * * *