AN URBAN DELUSION.
Jones knew a thing too much for most people. "Nice bunch o' water-cresses, just fresh in," said his greengrocer. "Oh, ah!" said the knowing Jones; "fresh—oh, yes! after being brought all the way from the country! Not for me, thankee!" For the fact was that the knowing Jones was just off for a day or two in the country himself.
AN URBAN DELUSION—(continued.)
But it so happened that the same bunch of water-cress went down by the same train as Jones did, and alighted at the same rural station. "Ha!" said Jones, in a stroll down the country lanes, "now, here comes a fellow with a real fresh country bunch of water-cresses; I will buy them and take them home to town with me the day after tomorrow. That's the way to get the real fresh article!"
By J. F. Sullivan. From Fun.
Among the many men, with whom our connection with Fun and the "Comic Annual" brought us into close communication, who have steadily ascended the ladder of fame—some, alas! no longer with us,—mention ought to be made of Henry S. Leigh, author of "Carols of Cockayne," "Strains from the Strand," and other volumes of verse; a man possessed of rare wit and unquestionable genius, but, unfortunately, without one atom of application or appreciation of the value of time. On one occasion, when some change of contributors was contemplated, Hood wrote: