September.—On the 1st, Shooting at Partridges commences. Opportunity for aiming old jokes about firing off guns without loading, killing dead birds, &c, &c. On the 3rd, the present Lord Chancellor born in 1825—the name of GIFFARD entombed in Hals-bury. A little obscure this, but, if carefully worked out, will amply repay time and attention. On the 9th THOMAS WATTS (who may be amusingly called "Watts-his-name"), died in 1869. Not much in this, but may possibly fill up an awkward pause during the reading of a will, or the arrival of fresh hot water at a newly-married lady's initial hospitality at five o'clock tea.
October.—FIELDING, the novelist, bowled out on the 8th in 1754. Battle of Agincourt on the 25th—an awful example to habitual drunkards. Pheasant-shooting commences. Right time to tell that story about the Cockney who, dropping his "h's," shot peasants instead! This well-worn jest will be still found attractive by Australians who have spent the better part of their lives in the Bush.
November.—Good joke still to be made in the quieter suburbs about having special appointments for the 5th, when one has to take the chair at a meeting which perambulates the streets. Lord Mayor's Day on the 9th—opportunity for letting off "the Mayor the merrier," "£10,000 a Mayor's Nest-egg," &c, &c. Jests about the fog not now popular—the infliction is too serious for jocularity!
December.—Holiday time for everyone, inclusive of that most melancholy of persons "the funny man." BOB LOWE (born in 1811) reaches the age of eighty, and the Grand Old Man (born in 1809) eighty-two! With this ingenious quibble the Amusing Rattle can wish himself a Merry Christmas, and the remainder of the world a Happy New Year.
APPROPRIATE.—Sir,—Was there ever a more appropriate Christmas legal case than appeared in the Times Law Report, December 20th, and which was entitled "The Mayor, &c. of Bootle-cum-Linacre v. The Justices of Lancashire?" What delightful names for a comic chorus to a Bab Ballad in a Pantomime.
Solo. Oh, did ye ne'er hear of His Worship the Mayor
Chorus. Of Bootle-cum-Linacre diddle-cum-dee;
Solo. Who went for the Justices of Lankyshare,
Chorus. Singing Bootle-cum-Linacre diddle-cum-dee.