er, who is
about to undertake the conquest of the world. Nobody is compelled to
volunteer, but those who hold back will be reckoned contumacious, and
will be taken into custody, and kept on raw coffee till such time as
they evince a serious desire to enlist. There will be no objection to
recruits returning home at the end of the war, if they come out of it
alive. Neither will there be any objections to the survivors bringing
back a marshal's baton, if they can get one. The Commander-in-chief
will charge himself with the fruits of the victory. Surgical
operations will be performed at his cost, and cork legs will be served
out with the rations. In the event of a profitable campaign, a
monument will be erected to the memory of the defunct, by way of a
reward for their heroism on the field of battle."

"Well, Fritz," said Becker, with a merry twinkle in his eye, "you were
sorry that Ernest was not present to hear the last placard read;
fortunately, you are on the spot yourself this time."

Fritz tried to look amused, but the attempt was a decided failure.

When the party had gone a little farther, another announcement met
their gaze; all were curious to know whose turn was come now; as they
approached, the following interesting question, in large letters,
stared them in the face:--

"HAVE YOU HAD YOUR PORTRAIT TAKEN YET?

"It has been reserved for the present age, and for this prolific
territory, so exuberant in cabbages, turnips, and other potables, to
produce the greatest of living artists--real genius--who is destined
to outshine all the Michel Angelos and Rubenses of former ages. Not
that these men were entirely devoid of talent, but because they could
do nothing without their palette and their paint brushes. Now that
illustrious _maestro_, Mr. Jack Becker, has both genius and ingenuity,
for he has succeeded in dispensing with the aforementioned troublesome
auxiliaries of his art. His plan which has the advantage of not being
patented, consists in placing his subject before a mirror, where he is
permitted to stay till the portrait takes root in the glass. By this
novel method the original and the copy will be subject alike to the
ravages of time, so that no one, on seeing a portrait, will be liable
to mistake the grand-mother for the grand-daughter. Likenesses
guaranteed. Payments, under all circumstances, to be made in advance.

"Ah, well," said Becker, laughing, "it appears that the scapegrace has
not spared hi