the damsel, with a shuddering glance at what seemed to be a
straw-strewn cabin.

"It is called," replied the man, defiantly, "the Pirate Bus!" On
hearing this, the entire party uttered a despairing cry, and fainted!

* * * * *

THE TRAVELLER'S FRIEND.

(_A HINT FOR THE COMING HOLIDAYS._)

DEAR MR. PUNCH,--As we are within measurable distance of the time when
everyone will be thinking of going abroad, perhaps you will allow me
to make a practical suggestion. No doubt you will have observed that,
according to the Correspondent of the _Times_, recounting the "recent
railway outrage in Turkey," the Brigands "chose five of the most
opulent-looking of their victims, and told them that they meant to
hold them to ransom." I am not surprised at this occurrence, for
something of the same sort once happened to me. I am very well to do,
and I am fond of what I believe is vulgarly called "globe-trotting." I
do not care to be encumbered with too much luggage, and if there is a
thorn to the rose of my sweet content it is the objection that my
wife makes to my personal appearance. She will have it that a suit of
thoroughly comfortable dittos is not the proper garb for a stroll on
the Boulevards des Italiens, or a lounge on the Piazza San Marco. As
for my wide-awake, she declares (and I can assure you that I have not
had it for more than ten years) it is absolutely disgraceful!

But to my story. I have said that I myself was once attacked by