A Liberator Lay.
Three little roguey-boys said to Conscience—"Pooh!"
Croydon made one its Mayor, and then there were two.
Two little roguey-boys thought that Fraud was fun;
A Judge thought otherwise, and then there was one.
One little roguey-boy took the Chiltern Hun-
dreds upon his road to Spain, and then there was none!
Walking Round His Subject.—In Tay Pay's interesting review of The Life of Lord Aberdeen, a Book of the Week in the Sun, there is a delightful chord which shows that "the harp that once thro' Tara's halls" still upon occasion twangs. "It is pleasant," says Tay Pay, writing of Mr. Gladstone, "to be able to project ourselves backward to the time, when the statesman we know as full of years and the idol of millions, was the bashful, self-distrustful youth." Now, if next week our young friend, whose sympathy with bashful, self-distrustful youth, is instinctive, will manage to withdraw himself forward, he may be said to have thoroughly reconnoitered his subject, an excellent thing in a reviewer.