jectionable. How would "The
Arachne" do? Or as Omphale assumed the attire of Hercules, and tried
to wield the club, why not call one of these the Omphale?

* * * * *

OLD SONG, ADAPTED TO THE OCCASION (_by one who wasn't asked to the
Marquis of Salisbury's party_).--"_I dreamt that I supp'd in Marble
Halls_," &c., &c.

* * * * *

[Illustration: IN CONFIDENCE.

"MUMMY DEAR, WHO'S PAPPA'S MOTHER-IN-LAW?" "MY MOTHER, DEAR,--YOUR
GRANDMAMMA."

"Oh--(_Considering._)--DO YOU THINK GRANDMAMMA WOULD TAKE A PRIZE AT
THE CAT SHOW?"

"ETHEL, DEAR! WHAT _DO_ YOU MEAN?" "WELL, MUMMY DEAR, I HEARD PAPPA
SAY THAT, IN THE WHOLE COURSE OF HIS LIFE HE HAD NEVER COME ACROSS
'SUCH AN OLD TABBY AS HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW'!"]

* * * * *

AWAKENING FATHER CHRISTMAS

OR, THE CALL TO ALMS.

_A TOPSY-TURVEY VERSION OF THE TENNYSONIAN DAY-DREAM._

THE SLEEPING BEAUTY.

All through the year, towards his feet,
He slumbering in his place alone,
Waiting December days to greet
The "Beauty's" snowy beard has grown;
Whilst all about his bulky form
Fir-hedge and holly sprout and twirl.
Sleeping he snoreth, snug and warm,
His breath scarce stirs his beard's crisp curl.

He sleeps: the jolly, brave Old Bird,
Ruddy of phiz as warm of heart,
Who, when he's annually stirred,
Is always good, and game to "part."
He sleeps: all round his cosy cell
His long-stored gifts are waiting use;
And--till awaked--he there doth dwell,
A cosy form in cosy snooze.

THE ARRIVAL.

All precious things, discovered late,
To those who seek them turn up trumps.
Charity works with kindly fate,
The heart in her soft bosom thumps.
She travels under winter skies--
She stayeth not for storm or shocks--
Celestial Grace with tender eyes,
And loving lips, and golden locks.

She comes, well-knowing what she seeks;
She breaks the hedge, she enters there:
Love's flush illumes her maiden cheeks;
She hears Yule's chimes upon the air:
She holds aloft that mystic stalk,
With white globes decked, to lovers dear;
"Now, Father Christmas, wake and walk!"
She whispers in the "Beauty's" ear.

THE AWAKENING.

A touch, a kiss! the charm was snapt.
There came a noise of striking clocks.
Twelve strokes! Aroused from slumber rapt,
The "Beauty" shook his silvery locks.