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[Illustration: SKY-SIGNS IN THE COUNTRY. (AS SEEN BY OUR ARTIST IN
SEARCH OF THE PICTURESQUE.)]

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[Illustration: NOSTALGIA.

"YOU SEEM OUT OF SORTS, JAMES, EVER SINCE WE'VE COME NORTH. IT'S THE
CHANGE OF CLIMATE AND SCENERY, I S'POSE!" "IT'S WUSS NOR THAT, MARIAR.
IT'S THE CHANGE OF BEER!"]

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VOCES POPULI.

AN EVENING WITH A CONJUROR.


SCENE--_A Suburban Hall. The Performance has not yet begun.
The Audience is limited, and low-spirited, and may perhaps
number--including the Attendants--eighteen. The only people in the
front seats are, a man in full evening dress, which he tries to
conceal under a caped cloak, and two Ladies in plush opera-cloaks. Fog
is hanging about in the rafters, and the gas-stars sing a melancholy
dirge. Each casual cough arouses dismal echoes. Enter an intending
Spectator, who is conducted to a seat in the middle of an empty
row. After removing his hat and coat, he suddenly thinks better--or