Mr. GLADSTONE by a name which would
be both tasteless and pointless."--_Mr. A.V. Dicey's Letter to
the Times._]

Tasteless and pointless, DICEY? Well, the time _is_ out of joint,
And you were born to set it right, though _not_ with "taste" and "point."
We cannot all do all things, Sir, and if you save the State
(As the great Twin Brethren mean to in despite of HARCOURT's hate),
What _does_ it matter, DICEY, if your letters are not quite
In that style epistolary, which our fathers called "polite"?
'Tis a little too meticulous--in you--and rather late,
After giving Mr. GLADSTONE such a wholesome slashing "slate."
Take heart of grace, dear DICEY, and don't let Sir WILLIAM's "point"
In your tough (if tasteless) armour find a vulnerable joint.
"Old Timbertoes" won't trouble, Sir, to wish that _you_ were dead,
And his taste (_not_ point) forbids him to call you "Old Wooden-head!"

* * * * *

KEEP WATCH!

[A Visitor fishing off Deal Pier brought up a gold watch
and chain on his hook. It is supposed to be one lost by a
resident, but the lucky angler has not been seen since.]

Paradoxical portent! Most worthy of rhyme
Is this fortunate angler who tried to kill time.
Fate made him the offer, and, wisely, he book'd it;
He not only killed time, but he caught it,--and "hook'd it."

* * * * *

[Illustration: MR. PUNCH VISITS SCARBOROUGH SPA.]

* * * * *

BOULANGER.

So high he floated, that he seemed to climb;
The bladder blown by chance was burst by time.
Falsely-earned fame fools bolstered at the urns;
The mob which reared the god the idol burns.
To cling one moment nigh to power's crest,
Then, earthward flung, sink to oblivion's rest
Self-sought, 'midst careless acquiescence, seems
Strange fate, e'en for a thing of schemes and dreams;
But CAESAR's simulacrum, seen by day,
Scarce envious CASCA's self would stoop to slay,
And mounting mediocrity, once o'erthrown,
Need fear--or hope--no dagger save its own.

* * * * *

FROM BRIGHT TO DULL.--In an interesting article on artificial
reproductions of Nature's treasures, the _Standard_ remarked that
"Real diamonds have been turned out of the chemist's retorts." What a
brilliant chemist he must have been! Probably of Hibernian origin, as
among conversational sparklers ther