In the art of park-keeping we've something to learn.
The Poet-Laureate Stakes (by "Our Special Commissioner").—There is not much to choose between the competitors for the above unimportant fixture. Ever since the publication of the weights Sir Edwin Arnold has held the position of first favourite. He appears to have derived no harm from his recent journey to "India"; indeed, on visiting him at his new quarters in "the Tenth Mews" we found him in the pink of condition. Although Mr. Austin has, owing to a strained cæsura, and consequent restriction to walking exercise, gone back in the betting, he is, nevertheless, looked upon in some quarters as a likely candidate; while Sir Lewis Morris is very much fancied—by himself. A somewhat sensational wager of £3000 to £10 was booked against Sir Lewis and Mr. Henley "coupled."
Caution in Right Direction.—Dear Mr. Punch,—The direction, written by a correspondent, on an envelope I found on returning from a short trip, suggested to me exactly the description of a sly puss (which I am not) of a young lady (which I am) who would be a perfect model of propriety ("that's me") in her own domestic circle, but
"Forward if away from home!"
There's a nice description! So misleading! I mention this as something to be avoided by any one writing to a nice girl of his, or her, acquaintance, and placing special posting directions on the envelope.
Yours ever,
Lalage.