The Two Sarahs.
O Woman, you romp in with ease!
If you're not proud you're hard to please:
Men talk to-day on every hand
Of "the Grand Sara" and "Sarah Grand."
Irish Jarvey. "Let me dhrive yer Honour to Duneen Head."
English Tourist. "I have seen that, Pat. I went there Two Years ago."
Irish Jarvey. "Ah, yer Honour, shure they've added to the Scenery since that toime!"
Startling for Her.—Mrs. R.'s niece read out the heading of a paragraph in the Daily Graphic last Thursday, which sounded to her attentive aunt like "The New Baby." Mrs. R. was all attention, expecting some gratifying intelligence from White Lodge. Imagine her astonishment when her niece continued, "An addition to the collection of the Zoological Society of London was made last week——" "What!!!" exclaimed Mrs. R., and her niece continued.) "When a gnu was born at the menagerie in Regent's Park." The excellent lady was dumb with amazement. Then her niece showed her the heading which was "A Gnu Baby," with the illustration of the gnu baby and the old mother.
Phosphorescence in Art.—Said Professor Dewar, in a recent lecture, "A perfectly clean plate of metal does not phosphoresce, but the merest trace of grease—such as is left by the touch of the hand—will make it brightly luminous." Take, adds Mr. Punch, by way of example, a perfectly clean plate of metal, apply to it the hand of a skilled etcher, say of Professor Hubert Herkomer, R. A., and the result will be brightly luminous, and what is more, it will last, and its bright luminosity will increase with age.
Vive Rosebery!—The owner of Ladas celebrated the Derby triumph with an entertainment to the Epsom Poor of the Union Workhouse, all Unionists, of course, which makes the Premier's Ladasian horse-pitality still more noble. "This week His Lordship entertains the Epsom tradesmen," so it is announced. One of the entertainments will be of a novel naval character, and will consist of a hornpipe by the celebrated Old Epsom Salts. Afterwards nautical song, "All in the Downs."
Really Sensible.—The Lord Chief Justice of England, Lord Russell of Killowen, (and if there is anything in a name isn't this "Justice to Ireland"?) will commence his judicial duties, after the swearing is over, to-day, Wednesday. His Lordship has appointed Mr. R. J. Block to be his Chief Clerk. Excellent appointment! Especially in this summer heat, as when oppressed by the weight of his legal wig, the Lord Chief will simply take it off and put it on the Block.
She Knows!—Mrs. R. is much pained on hearing that in some parts of the Potteries the favourite song is the well-known one containing the lines:—
The beating of his own wife
Was all the sound he heard.
As she shrewdly remarks, this indicates the manner in which the cottar in this district is accustomed to spend his Saturday night.
Our Toby and his Anxious Friends.—Mr. Punch has received several letters reminding him that the Duke of Rutland is a Cantab, not an Oxonian as stated in our Toby's "Essence" for June 30. Toby is delighted to hear it. He will remember in future that "Mr. Crummles is not a Prussian," &c., &c.
"London Playgrounds."—Drury Lane, Lyceum, Haymarket, Toole's, &c., &c. The respective managers say they prefer to see these crammed, and object to all "open spaces."