Royal National
Lifeboat Institution, which is declared to be "in dire
financial straits," the deficit for last year being L33,000.
Subscriptions and donations will be thankfully received
by CHARLES DIBDIN, Esq., Secretary, R.N.L.I., 14, St. John
Street, Adelphi, London, W.C.]

True "tuneful CHARLEY is no more,"
As DIBDIN's Monument informs us;
But memory of the man who bore
That honoured name still stirs and warms us.
And here's another of his name,
Who still the British Sailor's serving;
Then who could see without sore shame
JOHN BULL from _his_ plain duty swerving?

Thirty-three Thousand to the bad,
Our Lifeboat Service, once our glory?
Nay, JOHN, that will _not_ do, my lad;
Next year must tell a different story.
Think, what would "tuneful CHARLEY" say
To such a thing? In racy lingo,
Upon our backs his lash he'd lay,
And give the slothful Britons "stingo."

Thirty-five thousand lives they've saved,
Our Life-boat rescuers, already.
The seas around our shores they've braved,
With valour prompt and patience steady.
Shall they be floored for _L.S.D._,
Because JOHN BULL his pockets buttons?
Then the old keepers of the Sea
Must be, in pluck, as dead as muttons.

True, lads, on such a text as this
"We sadly miss old CHARLEY's line;"
But were we mute, Neptune would hiss
His sons degenerate off the brine.
Old "CHARLEY" spins his yarns no more!
He's dead, as _Scrooge_ declared old _Marley_.
What then? Wake up, from shore to shore,
And--send your guineas to _Young_ CHARLEY!

* * * * *

"GREAT SCOT!"

[Extorted, by circumstances beyond his control, from a stolid
but unsuccessful Saxon Shootist at Bisley and Wimbledon, after
the match at the latter place between picked twenties of the
London Scottish and the London Rifle Brigade, won easily by
the former team.]

Oh! the Scot lot are all cracks at a shot,
And extremely successful at Hunting the Pot.
This particular "Saxon" the hump has got,
Being licked by a team which is Picked _and_ Scot.

* * * * *

[Illustration: SETTING THEIR CAPS AT HIM; OR, AN AUTOCRAT IN ODD
COMPANY.

["Never," said the CZAR, at the Imperial dinner to which
the Officers of the French Fleet were invited, "could I have
believed that Republican Sailors, that Republic