The more the doctors run you down,
The more I puff you--and inhale you.

Though worn with toil and vexed with strife
(Ye smokers all, attend and hear me),
Undaunted still I live my life,
With you, my Cigarette, to cheer me.

* * * * *

[Illustration: SOMETHING WRONG SOMEWHERE.

"HOW CHARMING YOU LOOK, DEAR MRS. BELLAMY--AS USUAL! _WOULD_ YOU MIND
TELLING ME WHO MAKES YOUR LOVELY FROCKS? I'M _SO_ DISSATISFIED WITH MY
DRESSMAKER!"

"OH, CERTAINLY. MRS. CHIFFONNETTE, OF BOND STREET."

"CHIFFONNETTE! WHY, I'VE BEEN TO HER FOR YEARS! THE WRETCH! I WONDER
WHY SHE SUITS YOU SO MUCH BETTER, NOW!"]

* * * * *

A TALK OVER THE TUB;

_OR, LEGAL LAUNDRESSES IN COUNCIL._

["The whole legal machinery is out of gear, and the country is
too busy to put it right."--_Law Times_.]