One warning more. Let all beware the wretched obvious joke,
Nor dare to hint our great crusade is like to end—in smoke.
SCRAPS FROM CHAPS.
Festive Farmers.—There was a meeting lately of the North Somerset Agricultural Society, whereat—according to the Bristol Mercury—
Mr. S. Harding proposed "The health of Mr. E. H. Llewellyn, their president and member." Mr. Llewellyn, he said, was the idol of North Somerset.
The toast was drank amidst the singing of "For he's a Jolly Good Fellow."
Mr. Llewellyn thanked all present for their kindness in paying him the greatest compliment they could pay to an Englishman, namely, by calling him a jolly good fellow.
Yes, Mr. Llewellyn, there's sense in your attitude!
When by other folks' virtues or wits we're opprest,
We feel 'tis no paradox, almost a platitude,