* * * * *

"LATINÉ DOCTUS."--A Cantab, neither a first-rate sailor nor a
first-class classic, arrived at Calais after a rough passage, looking,
as his friend, who met him on the _quai_, observed, "so changed he
would hardly have known him." "That's it," replied the staggering
graduate, "_quantum mutatus ab billow!_" Oh! he must have been bad!

* * * * *

THE SONG THAT BROKE MY HEART.

I paused in a crowded street,
I only desired to ride--
Only to wait for a Hammersmith 'bus
With room for myself outside;
When I caught the nastiest tune
My ear had ever heard,
And asked the Police to take it away,
But never a man of them stirred.

So the singer still sang on;
She would not, would not go;
She sang a song of the year before last
That struck me as rather low.
She followed with one that was high,
That made the tear-drops start,
That was "_Hi-tiddly-i-ti! Hi!-ti!-hi!_"
The song that broke my heart!