at all to worry them,
Having work to do they did it just as quiet as a mouse,
Though this soldier took his daughter and his wife, and tried to hurry
them
In the cause of outraged virtue far from Londonderry House.

So when next he goes where statues are, we'll do our best to hide them,
Since to prudes all things are prudish, lest his modesty take hurt.
Though some one else, perhaps, may write, and say he can't abide them,
When Apollo stands in trousers, or when Venus wears a skirt.

* * * * *

FROM ROBERT.--"Sir, I'm proud of my furrin co-profeshunal LHEROT, the
himminint Waiter, wot nobbled the bomb-ta-ra (hif I may so igspress my
sentimenx) waggybun, RAVACHOL. This Waiter is wot my french frend calls a
'_Tray bong Gassong_,' and the wunnerful manner the french Waiters has of
carryin a tray loded with drinkabels is worthy of the hippythep. He sez
orlso has is name, hinsted of LHEROT, ort to be andid down to posterittory
as 'L'HEROS'--wich word as rote down by hisself means 'The Hero.' He got a
1000 Franks, wich is rayther more nor wos ever got by one BOB."

* * * * *

[Illustration: A WAITING GAME.

THE OLD KEEPER. "GENTLY! GENTLY!--MY BEAUTY! I'LL SAY '_WHEN_'!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: REALLY PLEASANT!

SIX MILES FROM HOME, HORSE DEAD LAME, AWFULLY TENDER FEET, AND HORRIBLY
TIGHT BOOTS.]

* * * * *

MR. PUNCH'S BOAT-RACE NOVEL.

STONYBROKE.

CHAPTER I.

IT was the eve of the University Boat-Race. In the remote East the gorgeous
August sun was sinking to his rest behind the purple clouds, gilding with
his expiring rays the elevated battlements of Aginanwater Court, the
ancestral seat of His Grace the Duke of AVADRYNKE, K.C.B., G.I.N., whose
Norman features might have been observed convulsively pressed against the
plate-glass window of his alabaster dining-hall. There was in the
atmosphere a strange electric hus