First Passenger (indifferently). Is it? But, as I was saying, insularity is our——
Second Ditto (startled). Hullo! By Jove!—no, it can't be true! Yes, it is—here's an English newspaper taken to giving a column, a whole column, of French news in French! (Humorously.) Very insular, isn't it?
First Passenger (not understanding the point). Very. And, as I was saying, it's our besetting sin. We hide our heads like ostriches, and refuse to recognise the existence of foreigners. Then what does this insularity mean? It means we're isolated—cut off from Europe—hated by everybody.
Second Ditto (roused at last). I don't know what you call being insular and isolated. French Plays are on at a London Theatre. An Italian Exhibition's coming to Earl's Court. We get our music from Germany, our singers from Italy, and our butter and eggs from Belgium and Brittany; and, on the whole, don't you think London's about the most Cosmopolitan Capital to be found anywhere? Ah, here's my Station. Good morning!
[Jumps out in time to escape indignant retort. Exit.
Magazines in Bulk.—It is as impossible to "sample" a magazine by a monthly number as it is to estimate the quality of a wine by the glass. If you take a bottle you know something about it. Thus when we see the English Illustrated in volume we are fully able to estimate its worth. The present volume is in every way equal to its predecessors. Volume Fourteen of St. Nicholas is one of those good gifts that Brother Jonathan sends us. It is a delightful collection of child-poems, child-pictures, and child-lore. The editor, Miss Mary Mapes Dodge knows full well how difficult it is to please those keen critics, the children, but she has "dodged" it.
The Mac Battenberg.—Mr. Punch is delighted to hear that mother and child are doing well, and congratulates the Infant Princess on being the first of the Royal Family to be born in Scotland since 1600. Could not the next be born in Ireland? "The O'Battenberg," would be a splendid title.