To drink his pint or hers until they grow
Glorious with golden beer, and count as gains
The glowing draughts that presage morning pains.
QUITE UNANSWERABLE.
EPISCOPACY IN DANGER.—Mr. Punch congratulates Dr. PEROWNE, Bishop of Worcester, on his narrow fire-escape some days ago, when his lawn sleeves (a costume more appropriate for a garden-party than a pulpit) caught fire. It was extinguished by a bold Churchwarden. In future let Churchwardens be prepared with hose whenever a prelate runs any chance of ignition from his own "burning eloquence." If Mr. Punch's advice as above is acted upon, a Bishop if "put out" may probably mutter, "Darn your hose." But this can be easily explained away.
BETTER AND BETTER.—The Report last week about Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN was that "he hopes to go to the country shortly." So do our political parties. Sir ARTHUR cannot restrain himself from writing new and original music at a rapid pace. This, is a consequence of his having taken so many composing draughts.