The hasty man drinks his tea with a fork.
AN IMAGINARY RUN ON A TURKISH RAILWAY.
FORMATION of the new railway across the Isthmus of Suez is suggestive of some curious speculation as to the mode in which business will be conducted by the Turks, whose tree of knowledge is rather green upon such matters, and may get its owners into a line from which it will not be easy to extricate themselves.
The Lamp of Aladdin, of course, will be used as a safety signal, and the bow-string (that "great moral engine" which draws everybody in the East into one common terminus) as a signal of danger. It is also understood that the celebrated "Slave of the Ring" will be posted by turns at the different stations to announce the arrival of the trains; and that in place of the electric telegraph, the celebrated telescope of Prince Ali (which beat Lord Rosse's hollow) will be used in conjunction with the Prince Hassein's carpet to discover accidents and despatch assistance; while the apple of Prince Ahmed, which cured all diseases, will be used for the relief of the sufferers. The solemnity of Eastern manners will have a singular effect among the—to us—every-day associations connected with railway travelling. We can fancy a director, on a dividend day, exclaiming, "Holy Profit!" but we can not fancy the chairman and directors dining together afterwards at the Bosphorus Blackwall, wherever that may be, without wine or whitebait, and getting through the gormandizing process with their fingers. Then, on coming away, what a tedious process it must be; the finding of the slippers which have been left in the hall—an annoyance which an English director could imagine if he had ever been obliged to leave a festive party at the Crown and Sceptre in a small Wellington and a big Blucher, belonging to other gentlemen. Of course, the subordinates on the line will be equally polite with their betters. As a train arrives at a station, the Oriental guard will rise from his chibouk, and say, with a profound salaam, "Kosh Amedid! You are welcome!" and express a hope to the party, Pasha or highly-fed Aga, as they alight from the first-class carrages, that their respective shadows may never be less—which, by the way, to men who are wont to indulge in habitual oxen, stuffed with perpetual pistachio nuts, is rather an uncharitable wish than otherwise. Then the official will solemnly approach the second class, and exclaim, "Mashallah, oh ye gents—(there are doubtless gents in the East)—but are the tickets of the faithful ready?" and add, on receiving them, "Bishmillah, the Mare of Mahomet be praised!" To the third class, where the unbelievers will throng, the expression will be—"Allah is great, and Mahomet is his Prophet. Dogs of Christians, tickets!" Reversing the English custom, a carriage must be set apart in every train for the infidels who do not smoke.
THE POTATO ITSELF AGAIN.
We are glad to announce the recovery of the Potato. It has been too long absent from the festive board, and we are sure its reappearance at the dinner table will be hailed with all the warmth of a public friend, whose generous nature enables thousands to keep the pot boiling all the year round. How rejoiced the Baked Leg of Mutton will be to embrace its old companion once more! The two agree so well that they never should be separated. We can imagine the pans and kettles too, which have been growing rather rusty in its absence, will now brighten up again at its return, and bless "its dear eyes," à la T. P. Cooke, to see it looking so well. In Ireland its recovery will be quite a national feast. The "whole biling" of them will be, let us hope, in every man's mouth. In England, also, it will be a guest everywhere, from the palace to the potato-can. England is proud of its Champion; and justly—for no Champion strips so quickly for his rounds as the Potato. May it never leave us again! We could well spare a better vegetable.
HOW TO MAKE SURE TO WIN.
A TALE OF A FAT CATTLE SHOW.
The other day, in some country town,