twelve
o'clock.

By the next Clause it is enacted, that ladies are to be charged one-half
as much again as gentlemen (this clause has been objected to as being
rather stringent, and oppressively severe, but when it is considered the
trouble that ladies give, and how they always object to pay what a
Cabman asks of them, and how they always keep the Cabman waiting, with
their useless arguments and frivolous complaints, it is but right that
the Cabman should be protected against all such contigencies, and be
allowed something extra for his unfeeling waste of time).

Babies, if taken, to be charged each as a separate fare, or else weighed
as luggage, according to the option of the Cabman.

In no case is the fare to have the power of appeal against the
Magistrate's decision.

There are several minor clauses, but we think we have shown enough of
the New Cab Act to prove that if only one-half of it is carried out, we
shall have not only the Cabmen better protected, but also a better and
more respectable class of riders in cabs.

* * * * *

THE CABALISTIC NUMBER.--This number is 6, with a small "_d_" placed on
the right hand side, over the top of it; meaning that the price for
riding in a Cab is now Sixpence a mile.

* * * * *

LATEST FROM THE CAPE.--A proposal has been under consideration in the
magnetic circles here, to form an expedition for the purpose of moving
Table Bay.

* * * * *

OUR MUDDY METROPOLIS.

LORD PALMERSTON at a recent City dinner good-humouredly twitted the
Corporation on their dirt, and playfully threw the Thames in the face of
the citizens. The Home Secretary, with a pleasant mixture of urbanity
and satire, entreated the aid of the Londoners in consuming their own
smoke, and absorbing their own mud, with a view to the filtration of
their own river. We suppose his Lordship fancied the City Corporation
might correct the City dirt; as one poison is said to dispel another, on
the principle of _similia similibus_. We fear the Home Secretary fails
to see with his usual clearness when he looks at the Thames as a sort of
mirror which is only labouring under a temporary obfuscation, but which
is capable of being restored to that translucent state which, according
to the poets, formerly belonged to it. The Thames is one of those
enormities which none of us can ever hope to see the bottom of.

*