A FEW GOLDEN RULES TRANSMUTED INTO BRASS

The Golden Rule.

1. Never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day.

2. Never trouble another for a trifle which you can do yourself.

3. Never spend your money before you have it, if you would make the most of your means.

4. Nothing is troublesome that we do willingly.

The Brazen Rule.

1. Put off till to-morrow the dun who won't be done to-day.

2. When another would trouble you for a trifle, never trouble yourself.

3. Spend your money before you have it; and when you have it, spend it again, for by so doing you enjoy your means twice, instead of only once.

4. You have only to do a creditor willingly, and he will never be troublesome.

A Literary Pursuit.—Chasing a newspaper in a high wind.

The True Test.— First Screever (stopping before a pastel in a picture dealer's window). "Ullo 'Erbert, look 'ere! Chalks!"

Second Screever. "Ah, very tricky, I dessay. But you set that chap on the pivement alongside o' you an' me, to dror 'arf a salmon an' a nempty 'at, an' where 'ud 'e be?"

First Screever. "Ah!"

[Exeunt ambo.

Musical News (Noose).—We perceive from a foreign paper that a criminal who has been imprisoned for a considerable period at Presburg has acquired a complete mastery over the violin. It has been announced that he will shortly make an appearance in public. Doubtless, his performance will be a solo on one string.

Sporting Prophet (playing billiards). Marker, here's the tip off this cue as usual.

Marker. Yes, sir. Better give us one of your "tips," sir, as they never come off.

Art Dogma.—An artist's wife never admires her husband's work so much as when he is drawing her a cheque.

The United Effort of Six Royal Academicians.—What colour is it that contains several? An umber (a number).

Mem. at Burlington House.—A picture may be "capitally executed" without of necessity being "well hung." And vice versâ.

A Schism to be Approved of.——A witticism.

Excelsior!

She. "I didn't know you were a musician, Herr Müller."

He. "A musician? Ach, no—Gott vorpit! I am a Wagnerian!"

An Author's Cry of Agony

(Wrung from him by the repeated calls of the printer's boy)

"Oh! that devils' visits were, like angels', 'few and far between!'"

Riddles by a Wretch.

Q. What is the difference between a surgeon and a wizard?

A. The one is a cupper and the other is a sorcerer.

Q. Why is America like the act of reflection?

A. Because it is a roomy-nation.

Q. Why is your pretty cousin like an alabaster vase?

A. Because she is an objet de looks.

Q. How is it that a man born in Truro can never be an Irishman?

A. Because he always is a true-Roman.

Q. Why is my game cock like a bishop?

A. Because he has his crows here (crozier).

COUPLET BY A CYNIC

(After reading certain Press Comments on the Picture Show)

Retaliation.

Comic Man (to unappreciated tenor, whose song has just been received in stony silence). "I say, you're not going to sing an encore, are you?"

Unappreciated Tenor (firmly). "Yes, I am. Serve them right!"

An Inducement.

Swedish Exercise Instructress. "Now, ladies, if you will only follow my directions carefully, it is quite possible that you may become even as I am!"

More Swedish Instruction.

Instructress (to exhausted class, who have been hopping round room for some time). "Come! Come! That won't do at all. You must look cheerful. Keep smiling—smiling all the time!"

A BATCH OF PROOFS

The proof of a pudding is in the eating: The proof of a woman is in making a pudding; And the proof of a man is in being able to dine without one.

A Reflection on Literature.—It is a well-authenticated fact, that the name of a book has a great deal to do with its sale and its success. How strange that titles should go for so much in the republic of letters.

Motto for the Rejected at the Royal Academy (suggested by one of the Forty).—"Hanging's too good for them!"

Suggestion for a Music-Hall Song (to suit any Lionne Comique).—"Wink at me only with one eye," &c., &c.

Ample Grounds for Complaint.—Finding the grounds of your coffee to consist of nothing but chicory.

A Smiling Countenance is "The happy mien."

Publisher (impatiently). "Well, sir, what is it?"

Poet (timidly). "O—er—are you Mr. Jobson?"

Publisher (irritably). "Yes."

Poet (more timidly). "Mr. George Jobson?"

Publisher (excitably). "Yes, sir, that's my name."

Poet (more timidly still). "Of the firm of Messrs. Jobson and Doodle?"

Publisher (angrily). "Yes. What do you want?"

Poet "Oh—I want to see Mr. Doodle!"

Our Orchestral Society.

The Rector. "Oh, piano, Mr. Brown! Pi-an-o!"

Mr. Brown. "Piano be blowed! I've come here to enjoy myself!"

Jiu Jitsu

Customer.—"Have you 'How to be happy though married'?"

Bookseller. "No, sir. We have run out at present of the work you mention; but we are selling this little book by the hundred."