hed the paper through and through,
Each paragraph I read. You'll
Scarce credit it but those who "live
On their own means" had got to give
This statement in the schedule!

I put it, but my ducal pen
I saw distinctly sputtered when
I did so. All of which he
Will please remember when I say
I thought it in a minor way
Unkind of Mr. RITCHIE!

* * * * *

MICKY FREE IN PARIS.

As to the incident which recently appeared in the papers under the
head-line "Insulting an Ambassador," our old friend MICKY writes us
as follows:--"Be jabers then, ye must know the truth. Me and Count
MUNSTER was drivin' together. The Count's every bit a true-born son
of Ould Ireland for ever, and descended from the Kings of Munster by
both sides, and more betoken wasn't he wearin' an Ulster at the very
moment, and isn't he the best of chums with the Dukes of CONNAUGHT and
LEINSTER? Any way we were in our baroosh passin' the time o' day to
one another as we were drivin' in the Bore, when whack comes a loaf
o' bread, shied at our heads by an unknown military blaygaird. It
missed me noble friend, the Count, and, as if to give him a lesson
in politeness, it just took off the hat of a domestic alongside the
coachman on the box. 'Tunder and turf!' says I, preparing to descend,
and give the scoundrels a taste of my blackthorn all round. 'Whist!
be aisy now, MICKY,' says the Ambassador to me, in what is, betune
ourselves, his own native tongue; and with that he picks up the loaf,
sniffs at it, makes a wry face ('it's a rye loaf,' says I), and then
says he, out loud, with a supercilious look, 'Ill-bred!' Begorra,
there was a whoop o' delight went up all round, which same was a
sign of their purliteness, as divil a one of the ignoramuses could
onderstand a wurrd the Court said in English or German, let alone
Irish. 'Goot,' says MUNSTER to me, dropping into his German accent,
which, on occasion, comes quite natural to him--the cratur! 'I'll give
the loaf to the dog;' and he whistles up the mastiff, own brother
to BISMARCK's. 'Eh, MICKY, ye gossoon, isn't the proverb, "Loaf me,
loaf my dog"?' Ah! then was cheers for ould Ireland, and a mighty big
dhrink entirely we had that same night.

"Yours as ever, M.F."

* * * * *

HERRICK UP TO DATE.

(_AFTER "THE BRACELET TO JULIA."_)

[Illustration]

Why tye I about thy wrist,
JULIA, this my silken twist?
F