Later in the day killed a splendid gnat with very big head and large wings. Quite a pantomime gnat. Send him: as specimen to Sir Augustus Druriolanus. Useful as model for "property gnat" at Christmas. Or, nailed him to wall, as warning to other gnats.
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Final Note.:—Ilfracombe ought simply to be perfect. Spare friendly criticism, and you help to spoil the place. But I say to the I. I. C., in all friendliness, addressing them in French, "knowing the language," like Jeames, "Messieurs, j'ai raison, moi; vous,—vous avez Torrs." And now, I am off to Cromer.
"Iterum Crispinus!"—Bravo Sims Reeves! Simmum to the front again, the evening shirt-front, inviting Maud for a stroll with him in the garden, as fresh as ever! Glad to hear that in addition to "Tom Bowling," and out of compliment to the modern furore for cricket, Simmum is going to produce, from his chest, a new song entitled "Will Batting," which is to be dedicated to "W. G." But Simmum, our prime tenor, will make it a duet, and sing it with Grace. Trust soon to hear that Simmum will give us "The Lost Ball," as a companion to the "The Lost Chord."
CABBY; OR, REMINISCENCES OF THE RANK AND THE ROAD.
(By "Hansom Jack.")
No. V.—"GOING DOWN"—THE RACES—UPS AND DOWNS.