He gave Miss Tokely
a piece of the sack in which Zuleika was drowned; and he actually
persuaded that poor little silly Miss Vain to turn Mahometan, and sent
her up to the Turkish ambassador's to look out for a mufti.

THE DOVE OF OUR STREET.

If Bulbul is our Lion, Young Oriel may be described as The Dove of our
colony. He is almost as great a pasha among the ladies as Bulbul. They
crowd in flocks to see him at Saint Waltheof's, where the immense height
of his forehead, the rigid asceticism of his surplice, the twang with
which he intones the service, and the namby-pamby mysticism of his
sermons, have turned all the dear girls' heads for some time past.
While we were having a rubber at Mrs. Chauntry's, whose daughters are
following the new mode, I heard the following talk (which made me revoke
by the way) going on, in what was formerly called the young ladies'
room, but is now styled the Oratory:--

THE ORATORY.

MISS CHAUNTRY. MISS ISABEL CHAUNTRY.

MISS DE L'AISLE. MISS PYX.

REV. L. ORIEL. REV. O. SLOCUM--[In the further room.]

Miss Chauntry (sighing).--Is it wrong to be in the Guards, dear Mr.
Oriel?

Miss Pyx.--She will make Frank de Boots sell out when he marries.

Mr. Oriel.--To be in the Guards, dear sister? The church has always
encouraged the army. Saint Martin of Tours was in the army; Saint
Louis was in the army; Saint Waltheof, our patron, Saint Witikind of
Aldermanbury, Saint Wamba, and Saint Walloff were in the army. Saint
Wapshot was captain of the guard of Queen Boadicea; and Saint Werewolf
was a major in the Danish cavalry. The holy Saint Ignatius of Loyola
carried a pike, as we know; and--

Miss De l'Aisle.--Will you take some tea, dear Mr. Oriel?

Oriel.--This is not one of MY feast days, Sister Emma. It is the feast
of Saint Wagstatf of Walthamstow.

The Young Ladies.--And we must not even take tea?

Oriel.--Dear sisters, I said not so. YOU may do as you list; but I am
strong (with a heart-broken sigh); don't ply me (he reels). I took a
little water and a parched pea after matins. To-morrow is a flesh day,
and--and I shall be better then.

Rev. O. Slocum (from within).--Madam, I take your heart with my small
trump.

Oriel.--Yes, better! dear sister; it is only a passing--a--weakness.

Miss I. Chauntry.--He's dying of fever.

Miss Chauntry.--I'm so glad De Boots need not leave the Blues.

Miss Pyx.--He wears sackcloth and cinders inside his waistcoat.

Miss De l'Aisl