h; squirrel _saute;_
fricasseed opossum; pumpkin pie. That's your sort! Blue coat and brass
buttons. White Marseilles waistcoat. France saved by Marseilles
waistcoat. Organize earthquake to swallow London. JOHN BULL trembles.
Tours trembles. Italy trembles. Leaning tower of Pisa changes base and
slopes other way. Tired of France. Change base and slope other way.
PUNCHINELLO for the throne of Spain! Down with AOSTA! Down with effete
monarchies! Down with rents! Up with G.F. TRAIN!
_Answer._ Certainly.

* * * * *

PUNCHINELLO TO "THE SUN."

DEAR SUNNY:--In our issue dated November 19th, we took occasion to
congratulate you upon the sparkle added to your "Sunbeams" by the
judicious reproduction of our crisp and crystalline little poem "SALLY
SALTER." We have no doubt that your languid circulation was partly
restored by the timely aid thus unconsciously afforded you by
PUNCHINELLO. If any SALTER could save your bacon for you, surely "SALLY"
was the one to do it; only you shouldn't have tried to pass her off as
one of your own SALLIES. The jackdaw decked out in peacock's feathers
was a bird truly absurd, though not a whit more so than a Solar Dodo
like yourself with a PUNCHINELLO plume for a tail.

Now, in your number for November 9th, we find a remarkably pretty
"Autumn Song." It was pointed out to us, triumphantly, by a man who
carries _The Sun_ in his pocket, and who wanted to know why PUNCHINELLO
never gave his readers anything like _that?_ In reply, we courteously
referred him to PUNCHINELLO of October 22d, in which that identical
"Autumn Song" made its "first appearance upon any stage." And so there
you go, dear DODO SUNNY, with another PUNCHINELLO feather in your
pensive tail. Keep decking yourself with the feathers, dear SUNNY. They
become you well; and when you've got a bushel or so of 'em, we'll
dispose of you to BARNUM as the original Anti-Promethean Dodo that stole
fire from PUNCHINELLO to light up _The Sun._

PUNCHINELLO.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THAT BLONDE BUSINESS.

_Little Nell._ "O MA, WHAT PRETTY BOOTS THOSE LADIES HAVE!"

_Mamma._ "AND SUCH NICE DRESSES, TOO."

_Little Nell._ "DRESSES, MA? I DON'T SEE ANY DRESSES--I ONLY SEE THEIR
BOOTS!"]

* * * * *

OUR PORTFOLIO.

A Bilious Review of the French Situation.--Hot Fat for Idiots.--Trochu
Encounters a Conundrum.

PARIS, SEVENTH WEEK OF THE REPU