How anybody can sleep with these gentlemen—is another question!
HARMLESS ACCOMPANIMENT TO MR. CRUIKSHANK'S
PLATE ON THE OPPOSITE PAGE.
A friend of ours (had we been writing in the last century, we should have said a wag), was expressing himself in terms of the highest indignation with, or rather without, respect to his shoe-maker for presuming to emigrate to Australia, on the pitiful plea that he (our friend) was the only customer he had left. We remarked that we could see nothing reprehensible in his conduct—especially as all his former patrons had deserted him. "What are his former patrons to me?" exclaimed our friend; "I am the only one remaining to him—and a cobbler ought to stick to his last."
We laughed. Gentle reader, drop a smile if you can possibly manage it.
"There's Nothing like Leather"—
WANTED, A DIBDIN.
Apply to the First Lord of the Admiralty.
We hear a great deal of the prevalence of discontent in the navy. It is said that the sailors are constantly grumbling at the way they are treated, in the matter of unwholesome food and unsafe ships.
A great many suggestions have been offered as to the best remedy for this evil. Some weak-minded practical persons have proposed fresh provisions and new ships.