And you float a gorgeous Company. The shares go spinning up;
But you never "rig the market." (What an awkward word is "rig"!)
And you drain success in bumpers from an overflowing cup.

Then one day the thing gets shaky, and it goes from bad to worse,
And the public grasps a shadow where it tried to hold a share;
And in vain the country clergy most unclerically curse,
_You_ have "realised your property," and end a millionnaire.

* * * * *

COMING SEA-SCRAPES AT CHELSEA.

(_DRAWN BY AN INSIDER._)

MR. PUNCH, SIR,

That the sister Service should also have its turn at Chelsea I
reckon I can understand, and the Show ought to be popular; but if
the Admiralty want to make a further "exhibition" of themselves, they
won't have to go very far a-field for material. Here are one or two
exhibits that come to hand at once. First, there's those big guns
which it ain't safe to fire nohow, and which, if you do load with half
a charge, crack, bend, and get sent back to be "ringed" up, whatever
that means, and are not safe, even for a salute, ever afterwards.
Then, in another case, they might show a foot or two of that blessed
boiler-piping which is always leaking, or splitting, or bursting, just
when it shouldn't. In a third they might display a chop that had been
cooked from lying exposed in one of those famous stokeholes where
the poor beggars of sailors are expected to pass their time without