A tee for your ball, you may fashion of sand
(Which is found in the sugar you use for your tea);
Then you spread your legs wide, and you take a firm stand,
And away with a whack goes the ball flying free.
If it flies like a bird, there's no need to explain;
If not, then the ways of that golfer are dark,
Who attempts, though the effort is doomed to be vain,
To stand, taking tee on the back of a lark.
There has been some excitement at Weston-super-Mare. The "Conservative party organized a reception for the Hon. G. H. Jolliffe on his first appearance in the town since his election for the Wells division. Arrangements were made for those intending to take part in the procession to meet the hon. gentleman at the Potteries on his return from Banwell Horse Show at 7 p.m., but he arrived in the town a quarter of an hour too early, and scores of enthusiasts were disappointed. Those, however, who happened to be early enough followed the hon. gentleman, some on foot and others in cabs, to the Royal Hotel, the Town Band heading the procession. Mr. Jolliffe rode on a coach drawn by four horses, and was supported by several of the leaders of the party in the town. Subsequently he addressed those assembled." But if Mr. Jolliffe rode on a coach, why was it necessary to support him? Moreover, seeing that it was a four-horse affair, it seems unjust that the leaders should be talked of and that no mention at all should be made of the wheelers.
Nana Sahib has died once more.
A Mr. William Brown, who was formerly an officer in the East India Company's service, and is now residing at San Francisco, gives the following particulars regarding the fate of Nana Sahib. Mr. Brown says that he was commodore of the Ganges Fleet in the Indian Mutiny, and was attacked by Sepoys under Nana Sahib himself, who was shot in the fighting, and afterwards died on board Mr. Brown's ship. Nana Sahib's body was then cremated, and the ashes were committed to the river.
Why, oh why, has Mr. Brown, whom I heartily congratulate on clearing up the mystery, kept silence for nearly forty years? And, by the way, which Mr. William Brown is he? There must be a good many William Brown's even in San Francisco. Before concluding that the matter is definitely settled, I should like to hear Mr. Henry Smith, Mr. Richard Robinson, and Mr. John Jones on the subject.
WHERE NOT TO GO.