The Army loves me not;
Socialists whet their soul-edge
Against me; now the College
Swears that my road to knowledge
Is simply--Tommy rot.

Revolt? It's most revolting!
_My_ road might yield some jolting,
But boobies from it bolting
Will probably get bogged,
And, lost in some dim bye-way,
Regret the well-paved highway
Along which long in _my_ way
Contentedly they jogged.

* * * * *

OUR PARTICULAR TIP FOR THE DERBY.

(_FURNISHED BY THE ODD MAN OUT._)

Looking through the List of Probable Starters (who are all coming
on well, and might therefore be called, in the quaint turf Italian,
"_comeystarters_"), I cannot help feeling that this year the Blue
Riband of the Turf will fall to the flower of the flock--as, indeed,
it should. But if it does not, why, there are other really sound
horses that are sure to give a good account of themselves. We may take
it, that the winner will be out of the common. As the glorious animal
passes the post, the cheers will be so deafening, that there will be
a universal cry, "This must be ordinance!" As the fun of the Derby