JUMPING POWDER.
(Mr. Twentystun having a Nip on his way to Covert.)
Small Boy. "Oh my, Billy, 'ere's a Heighty-ton Gun a chargin' of 'isself afore goin' into Haction!"
Bumbledom and Bristles.—A strike of barbers has occurred at the Cork workhouse; no inmate cares to undertake the duty at the pay of one shilling a week; and the guardians are thinking of getting in outdoor relief for the chins of their paupers. Why not an "Irish Melody," to this effect?—
The barbers have struck, farewell to the shave,
And the rate-supplied soap on the cheek of the brave.
A Magnificent Opportunity.—The enormous hotel, the neighbour and, it may be, the friendly rival of the Savoy Hotel à la Carte,—for friendship in opposition is possible though improbable,—is almost completed, but apparently it is still "a deed without a name." What is it to be called? The board, not of directors, but of advertisement outside, says, "This Magnificent Hotel," &c., &c. Well, gentlemen proprietors, why not take this description as the title? It does not look bad in French, "L'Hôtel Magnifique." And in plain English "The Magnificent" is a striking title, which can become popular as "The Mag." Mr. Punch, as General Hotel Inspector and Universal Board Adviser, offers the above suggestion.