The sportsmanlike sniggler has landed a salmon!

As a nation of sportsmen, it rouses our ire
To hear of sport ruined by such a proceeding;
And to snigglers we earnestly wish and desire
To give the advice they so sadly seem needing.
Let them think, as they work their inglorious plan,
How old IZAAK must turn in his grave and must wriggle;
And may they in future all see if they can,
By learning to angle, forget how to sniggle!

* * * * *

IN OUR GARDEN.

[Illustration]

Discovered on returning home that the Member for SARK had not at
all exaggerated the facts picturing disaster to our onion-bed. This
portion of the garden had been disappointing from the first. Early
in the Spring, when hope beat high, and the young gardener's fancy
lightly turned to thoughts of large crops, SARK and I were resting
after a frugal luncheon, when ARPACHSHAD suddenly appeared at the open
window. I knew from his beaming face that something was wrong.

Perhaps I should explain that ARPACHSHAD is our head gardener. We have
no other, therefore he is the head. Out of the garden he is known as
PETER WALLOPS. It was SARK who insisted upon calling him ARPACHSHAD.
SARK had noticed that about the time of the Flood there was singular
deliberation in entering upon the marriage state. Matrimony did not