GLADSTONE such a wholesome slashing "slate."
Take heart of grace, dear DICEY, and don't let Sir WILLIAM's "point"
In your tough (if tasteless) armour find a vulnerable joint.
"Old Timbertoes" won't trouble, Sir, to wish that _you_ were dead,
And his taste (_not_ point) forbids him to call you "Old Wooden-head!"
* * * * *
KEEP WATCH!
[A Visitor fishing off Deal Pier brought up a gold watch
and chain on his hook. It is supposed to be one lost by a
resident, but the lucky angler has not been seen since.]
Paradoxical portent! Most worthy of rhyme
Is this fortunate angler who tried to kill time.
Fate made him the offer, and, wisely, he book'd it;
He not only killed time, but he caught it,--and "hook'd it."
* * * * *
[Illustration: MR. PUNCH VISITS SCARBOROUGH SPA.]
* * * * *
BOULANGER.
So high he floated, that he seemed to climb;
The bladder blown by chance was burst by time.
Falsely-earned fame fools bolstered at the urns;
The mob which reared the god the idol burns.
To cling one moment nigh to power's crest,
Then, earthward flung, sink to oblivion's rest
Self-sought, 'midst careless acquiescence, seems
Strange fate, e'en for a thing of schemes and dreams;
But CAESAR's simulacrum, seen by day,
Scarce envious CASCA's self would stoop to slay,
And mounting mediocrity, once o'erthrown,
Need fear--or hope--no dagger save its own.
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