OUR fashionable contemporaries have been amusing their readers with the details of how many birds have been bagged by my Lord This, or the Honourable Captain Tother; and, as every class has a peculiar interest attached to it, we have been at some pains to collect the results of the sporting season among a somewhat humble order of individuals. The best accounts assure us that the Dishonourable Bill Soames bagged no less than twenty pocket-handkerchiefs in a few hours, and brought down—off a clothes' line—everything within his reach. In the juvenile sporting circles Master Jones bagged twenty blue-bottles off his own pop-gun, and young Smith had a splendid run after a butterfly with a few young dogs of about his own age.
Zoological Gardens to Jardin des Plantes.
The following brief note has been forwarded by the Rhinoceros of our Zoological Gardens to Cow, the Rhinoceros of the Jardin des Plantes:—
"Dear Cow,—The French papers say you're the first rhinoceros in Europe since the time of the Romans. Gammon! I've been here more than these two years. But then, as it's only London, what should Frenchmen know about it?
Yours, from the bottom of my tank, R."
CHINA AND BACK—IN NO TIME!
The Chinese revolution threatens to lead to other revolutions, not only in England, but in Europe generally. As prognosticated by the Times, tourists are making quite a rush to the Celestial Empire. The Chum-li's, Choo-hoons, Mar-ch-banks, and other Belgravian mandarins have already beat a precipitate retreat from Paris, Baden-Baden, and such common-place places, and have arrived at their respective mansions with a view to arrange passages to Pekin by the "tidal trains." Valets are busy packing and directing port-mantchoos (oh!) for the scene of the contentions of the Mantchoo dynasty, and the youthful scions of Belgravia are already letting their tails grow in anticipation of the tour. To these latter, Punch would whisper a caution: they eat little dogs in China. "Chinese in six lessons," "Chinese without a master," may now be seen placarded everywhere; while our old friend Dr. Bowring is busily engaged, and will shortly publish a Pekin guide book, with dialogues for every possible occasion, which will enable the reader to distinguish a Joss house from a Pagoda, and to ask for a "little more bird's nest," in the most approved accent. Those who are prevented by business or means from visiting this new fashionable resort, will doubtless become familiar with the manners and customs of Pekin through the medium of panoramas, or by becoming guests at the Feast of Lanterns and the flow of oil, as held at the Surrey Zoological.