essionally without the aid of a butcher, they blow them up with
gunpowder, and divide them with a steam-scythe, for which proceedings
they are somewhat maliciously prosecuted by the Society for the
Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

_November_.--The Strike continuing, and times being very bad, several
Peers take advantage of the 5th of the month, and make a tour of their
immediate neighbourhoods in their own arm-chairs, thereby realising a
very handsome sum in halfpence from a not unsympathetic public.

_December_.--First signs of a probable second edition of a "good
old-fashioned Christmas" recognised. General panic in consequence.
Attempt to lynch the Clerk of the Weather at Greenwich, only
frustrated by the appearance of a strong force of Police. 1891
terminates in gloomy despair.

* * * * *

EDWIN AND ANGELINA.

(_ONE MORE VERSION._)

[Illustration]

DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I beg of you to hear my tale of woe,
My case is really one of those I'm sure you'd like to know;
How EDWIN and myself, at last, have quarrelled and have parted,
And I am left to shed a tear--alone, and broken-hearted.

We were engaged for eighteen months--he often said that life
Would not be worth the living, if I would not be his wife.
My eyes, though brown, were "blue" to him, my hair a "silken tangle,"
He'd given me his photograph, and such a lovely bangle!

I had called upon his mother, and had often stayed to tea--
She said that EDWIN had, indeed, a lucky catch in me.
I thought him quite a model youth--hard-working, loyal, steady,
A thrill of pleasure filled me when he wrote, "Your own, own EDDY.",

Oh! a brighter and a gladder day is surely never known
Than when EDWIN calls his darling ANGELINA his "own own."
It warmed me with the glow of love, it cheered me up when lonely,
Yet I didn't feel so happy, when it came to be, "Yours only."

The extra syllable indeed did not increase the charm,
I tried, however, to believe it didn't mean much harm;
So confident was I that naught our love could hurt or sever,
But it looked suspicious when next time he only put, "Yours ever."

He only called me darling once! how different from before!
Oh, could it be he liked me less (or other maiden more)?
And was he tired of me--the girl he loved so fondly, dearly?
It could not be! And then he wrote, "I am, Yours most sincerely."

Yes--was he going to fling me off as though