Volume 101 — OUR REAL DESIDERATUM.
Reading edition
(By a "Well-informed" Fool.)
Ah! I was fogged by the Materialistic, By HUXLEY and by ZOLA, KOCH and MOORE; And now there comes a Maëlstrom of the Mystic, To whirl me further yet from sense's shore. Microbes were much too much for me, bacilli Bewildered me, and phagocytes did daze, But now the author 'cute of "Piccadilly," HARRIS the Prophet, the BLAVATSKY craze, Thibet, Theosophy, and Bounding Brothers— No, Mystic Ones—Mahatmas I should say, But really they seem so much like the others In slippery agility!—day by day Mystify me yet more. Those germs were bad enough, But what are they compared with Astral Bodies? Of Useless Knowledge I have almost had enough, I really envy uninquiring noddies, I would not be a Chela if I could. I have a horror of the Esoterical. BESANT and OLCOTT may be wise and good, They seem to me pursuing the chimerical. Maddened by mysteries of "Precipitation," The Occult Dream and the Bacillus-Dance; We need Societies for the propagation Of Useful—Ignorance!
Dwarfs in and about London.
Sir,—We need not go so far afield as Messrs. HALIBURTON & CO. in search of dwarfs. In the suburbs of London, and even in the more densely-populated districts of this vast Metropolis, there are numbers of people who are uncommonly short. About quarter-day these extraordinary individuals may be heard of, but are rarely seen; which fact, however, affords no proof of their non-existence.
Yours, TAXOS GATHEROS.
LATEST PUBLICATION (OF THE POLITICAL NATURAL HISTORY SERIES).—Curious Development of French Froggies into Toadies of Russia.
"WHEN A MAN DOES NOT LOOK HIS BEST."—No. 1.
WHEN HE MAGNANIMOUSLY CONSENTS TO GO ON THE PLATFORM AT A CONJURING PERFORMANCE, AND UNWONTED OBJECTS ARE PRODUCED FROM HIS INSIDE POCKETS.
TO THE GRAND OLD CRICKETER.
Dear Dr. GRACE, the season through You've struggled on, and striven gamely; Your leg, for all you've tried to do, Has made your record come out lamely; Your county suffers, too, with you; Your failures very dear have cost her. But better luck in 'ninety-two To you, old friend, and good old Gloucester!