ood," returned the would-be homicide, "but I have
one difficulty. When I make up my mind to remove a person by
unconventional means (for choice, a carving-knife), and consume the
necessary amount of alcohol to insure intoxication--"

"Yes," interjected the Lawyer, who had now opened the outer door.

"I find, on reaching intoxication, that I have entirely forgotten the
identity of the man I have marked for my victim. Then I have got to
grow sober before I can remember who it is. Annoying, isn't it?"

And, wishing the Eminent Counsel a pleasant holiday, the visitor
disappeared into the Inner Temple.

* * * * *

[Illustration: AT THE SOUTH SEA-SIDE.]

* * * * *

THE HAT TO THE PARASOL.

(_A SCHERZO IN NOBS AND STICKS._)

[Illustration]

Reflection polished of highbred
And unreflecting graces,
I scintillate o'er STREPHON's head
At gala, rout or races;
Mine is the black but comely blend,
And mine the crowning touches
That so demurely recommend
The dandy to the duchess.

Out on thee, cruel Parasol,
Of lace, the pearl, and satin;
And glinting like a fairy doll
With many a burnished patin;
Cool, charming as the dainty dame
Who twirls thy coromandel;
Thou flauntest proudly since thy name,
Like hers, can boast its handle!

The cynosure of wondering _beaux_,
I boast a soul above thee;
No fate can mar my calm repose,
Or make me cease to love thee;
Supreme above the common tile,
My own affronts unheeding,
I bow and compliment and smile,
The Chesterfield of breeding.

Out on thee, trinket idly swayed!
Could any courtier dare see,
Through such perfections so displayed,
The mere "_Belle Dame sans merci_"?
Could man believe a thing so soft,
So framed for gentle passion,
Might wound, and wound not once but oft
The jaunty glass of fashion?

Yet sooth it is; and here I stand
A martyr to my tenets--
That orthodoxy smooth and grand
Of LINCOLN's fane and BENNETT's;
Unruffled once and unperplexed,
Collapsing now like jelly,
And but a sermon on the text
_Sic transit lux capelli_.

I who have braved our fitful climes
And laughed when tempest drenches,
And shaken off the dust that grimes
Pews, cushioned stalls and benches,
Survived the counterblasting Row,
And Summer gales that roar so--
I ne'er imagined such