THE BRITISH ATHLETE'S VADE-MECUM.

Question. What is the specialité of a Briton?

Answer. That given him by belonging to a race of born athletes.

Q. Can any member of the human family outside the British Isles do anything in the shape of sport?

A. Only imperfectly. However, Australians are good at cricket, and Americans have been known to adequately train racehorses.

Q. Can you give any reason for their partial success?

A. Yes. Australians are our first-cousins, and Americans our first-cousins once removed.

Q. Then you consider them of the same stock as the true Briton?

A. Quite so. Hence their prowess in the field.

Q. What do you think of foreigners?

A. That they are typified by "Moosoo."

Q. When you speak of "Moosoo," to whom do you refer?

A. To the average French duffer, who has about as much knowledge of sport as a baby in arms.

Q. Are all foreigners duffers?

A. All; without exception.

Q. How do they go out shooting?

A. With a horn, a couteau de chasse, a toy game-bag, and a decorated poodle.

Q. Can they row at all?

A. Not seriously. They can paddle a little, but have no more idea of pulling than the man in the moon.

Q. And yet, did not a Paris crew beat a Thames Eight, on the Seine, early in the present year?

A. Yes; but that was because there was some good reason or other for the English defeat.

Q. It could not have been, of course, because the French Eight was better than their visitors?

A. Certainly not.

Q. But is not that the view you would adopt if you were dealing with two English crews?

A. Why, certainly; but this was a race between Britons and Frenchman, and the former could not naturally be beaten by the latter on their own merits.

Q. Why not?

A. Because, as a matter of fact, they couldn't.

Q. And so your opinion of the superiority of Britons over foreigners is unalterable?

A. Of course. I should not be a Briton if it were not so.

DECIDEDLY PLEASANT.

Genial Youth. "I say, Gubby, Old Chap, is this really true about your going to Marry my Sister Edie?"

Gubbins. "Yes, Tommy. It's all settled. But why do you ask?"

G. Y. "Oh! only because I shall have such a jolly slack time now! You know I've pulled off nearly all her Engagements so far, only you're the first one who's been a Real Stayer!!"

A DECAYED INDUSTRY.

(From the Note-book of Our Prophet-Reporter.)

The Home Secretary was seated in his room awaiting the arrival of the Deputation:—

"Well, I suppose I was right to allow them to interview me," he murmured. "The submerged Tenth have not the franchise to-day. Ah! but they may have it to-morrow!"

The Home Secretary's exclamation was caused by the appearance of a number of half-starved ragamuffins, who had lounged into the room, and were now standing respectfully before him.

"Beg pardon, Sir," said the spokesman of this strange-looking deputation, "but are you the 'Ome Seckkerterry?"

"That is my position," replied the Cabinet Minister. "And now that you are here, what do you want?"

"Well, Guv'nor, truth to tell, we are out of employment. Our trade has gone to the dogs. Our business wos a removin' of superfluous cash from the pockets of the more inattentive of the public."

"Burglars!" exclaimed the Home Secretary, in some alarm, and he hastily approached the handle of the bell communicating with the Messenger's Room.

"Stow it!" cried the spokesman roughly, then hurriedly lowering his tone, he apologised, and said he spoke from force of habit. "Twenty years ago our purfession was worth something. We could make a tidy living out of silk pocket-handkerchiefs, and sich like. But nowadays it's all changed. It wants capital, Guv'nor; that's where it is, it wants capital!"

"What wants capital?" queried the Minister.

"Why, our purfession, to be sure. Nowadays everythink's done on scientific principals. A burglar must know something of chemistry, and be up in things generally. Besides, all the real good things are worked by syndicates. Unless you can put in a 'underd pounds or so, why, you are nowhere. What are we to do?"

The Home Secretary sat in deep thought.

"Look 'ere, Guv'nor," continued the spokesman, "'ere's a noshun. As we can't afford to be thieves, and haven't sufficient education to become burglars, why shouldn't we assist the Civil Power? Make us Peelers, Sir, you know—Coppers."

A month later the Police received some new recruits, and the title of the Force was officially changed to "The Unemployed."