Volume 146 — THE PIDGIN TROT.

The Paris Academy of Dancing Masters, according to a contemporary, announce a real successor to the Tango in the "Ta-tao." This dance is at any rate of respectable antiquity, as it has been popular in China since the year 2450 B.C. We anticipate an influx of slit-eyed professors from the Middle Kingdom, and are therefore brushing up our pidgin English in order that Mr. Punch's readers may be able to deal with the situation in the ball-rooms and at Ta-tao teas. Thus:—

Student. Chin-chin, Mr. Dance-pidgin-man!

Plofessor. Chin-chin, sah!

Student. You jussee now come this-side?

Plofessor. My hab jussee come Luntun.

Student. You talkee Yin-ke-li?

Plofessor. Can do. My sabby Englishee allo same you. My talkee tlue pidgin, no talkee lie pidgin.

Student. That b'long first chop! My wantchee catchee you teachee my, allo same same you dancee ta-tao.

Plofessor. My teachee numbah one plopah!

Student. So-fashion eh? How muchee plice?

Plofessor. My no makee squeeze-pidgin. My teachee velly well. S'pose you talkee plice....

Student. S'pose you catchee two dollah one-piecee time? Can do?

Plofessor. No can! My wantchee save face! My plice ten dollah, by'mby twenty dollah one-piecee time, allo same tango fashion.

Student. That ting no b'long leason! You b'long clevah inside—understand? My sabby heap foleign debble.... You catchee plenty cumshah!

Plofessor.. My no lose face....

etc., etc., da capo.

Nut. You-piecee here? Chin-chin!

Noisette.. Allo same you. You sabby plenty girl-chilo here?

Nut. My don't tink. Who-man b'long that boy-chilo you jussee talkee down-side?

Noisette. That b'long my pidgin!

Nut. Solly! S'pose you wantchee one-piecee dance? My b'long numbah one good boy!

Noisette. Can do first chop.

Nut. You sabby-dancee ta-tao?

Noisette. Can do two-piecee step so-fashion, one-piecee step so-fashion....

Nut. You b'long quite top-side.... I say, this lingo is about the edge. Put me down for the chow-chow—I mean supper, what!

Noisette. Sorry. Full up. Ta-tao!

Zig-Zag.

THE PRICE OF ADMIRALTY.

Mr. Punch. "YOU SEEM A LITTLE ANXIOUS, MADAM."

Britannia. "YES; I'M WAITING TO KNOW WHETHER I'M TO LAY DOWN THE SHIPS I WANT——"

Mr. Punch. "OR LAY DOWN YOUR TRIDENT!"

Mrs. A as "Furthest North."

Mr. B as "A Bath."

Mr. C as "The Duke of Marlborough."

Miss D as "A Comfy Winter Evening."

Mr. E as "A Country Squire".

The Brothers F as "A Baby Grand."

Theatre and Tyre Companies are no longer going to be allowed a monopoly in advertising at fancy balls. From private information we are able to anticipate some novelties for the next carnival.