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mons dare eject him? Picture the clamour if you can! His vote, his demagogues, protect him. But you, who only use your brains-- The people's voice, the noble's money, Not yours--why save you from the trains? For quiet, do you say? How funny! Perhaps you think, because in May The talk is all of Art and beauty, The Commons also think that way; Not so, they have a higher duty. If only speculators shout, And millionnaires take up the story, They thrust all Art and Nature out, For Trade is England's greatest glory. Then, if a careless House some day Permit the Channel Tunnel boring, Think how this railway line would pay; If you had shares you'd cease deploring. Think of the cotton-laden trains Direct from Manchester to Asia! Think of the Sheffield Railway's gains, Not of your lilac or acacia! * * * * * "ONE TOUCH OF NATURE." To introduce in a monument to a great writer a presentment of one of his most popular characters, as Mr. F. EDWIN ELWELL has done in his bronze statue of "_Charles Dickens and 'Little Nell,'_" is decidedly a pretty notion. "The child," looking up into the face of the great creative genius, who loved this offspring of his sympathetic fancy better than did all her other admirers, is a pathetic figure, and gives to the monument a more human and less coldly mortuary aspect than, unhappily, is usual in such work. It is a "touch of Nature" that makes even the adjunct of the mausoleum akin to the quick world of the living and loving. The vivid valiant genius, who so detested and denounced the superfluous horrors with which we surround death and the tomb, would cordially have approved it, little as was his love for monumental effigies, or care for the fame that is dependent on them. * * * * * VERY "FRENCH BEFORE BREAKFAST."--It was reported in the _Times_ that a M. ROULEZ fought four duels between nine and ten on Wednesday morning, severely wounded his four adversaries, and then, after this morning's pleasure, went about his business, that is his ordinary business, as if nothing particular had happened. To this accomplished swordsman the series of combats had been merely like taking a little gentle exercise "_pour faire Rouler le sang_." The combatants, as it turns out, appear to have been like _Falstaff's_ "men in buckram." * * *
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