ou don't expect
us to cling to his apron strings all the time."]

* * * * *

THE BEER-FIGHT.

(Suggested by Mr. CHESTERTON's "The Flying Inn.")

Of G. K. C. a tale I tell, of GILBERT CHESTERTON,
And how he met GAMBRINUS once and how they carried on.
Each roared a lusty challenge out, as only topers can,
And sat him down and called for beer, and then the bout began.

One had a _Seidel_ to his hand, and one a pewter pot;
They drank potations pottle deep, in fact they drank a lot.
And as they drank the barrels dry they rolled them on the floor,
And sang a stave and drained a quart and called aloud for more.

Their glowing souls o'ertopped the stars; they had their hearts' desire,
The while the world spun round and round its busy track of fire.
"I've lived for this," said G. K. C. and tossed his flaming head;
"_Der Kerl ist stark, das Bier ist gut_," was what GAMBRINUS said.

The sun looked on, the moon looked on, the comets all stood still
To see this stout and jolly pair who never had their fill.
And still they drained their beer as if they'd only just begun;
And no one dared to interfere to settle which had won.

* * * * *

PRESSIMISM.

The Bard to the schemer of newspaper placards.

Why, crystalliser of the world's diurnal
Experience, why plunge my soul in gloom
With tidings that are ghastly and infernal?
Why dim my morning eye with tales of doom,
Of flood and fire, of pestilence and drouth--
Leaving me down, distinctly, in the mouth?

Why stun me with: "Explosion in a Larder:
Cook and Policeman Blown to Bits"; "The Girl
That Poisoned Half a Parish"; "Weather Harder
And Death Rate Rising"; "Poacher Brains an Earl";
Why blazon blackly forth such blighting news,
Nor give a glimpse of life's less dismal hues?

Why not proclaim such gladness as the following:
"Twins Born in Tooting: Trio Doing Well";
"Chelsea Churchwarden much Improved, and Swallowing
Beef-Tea With Ease"; "A Famous Barking Belle
Gets Off at Last"; "A Navvy's Love of Greek";
"Young Poet Earns a Guinea in a Week"?

* * * * *

"Velour Hat, pretty blue, trimmed large elephant."--_Advt._

A small seagull looks prettier and is less in the way at _matinees_.

* * * * *

THE CONVERTED STATISTICIAN.

A sudden jolt as we thundered