The scene to vary, we shall try in time
To treat you with a little pantomime.
Here light and easy Columbines are found,
And well-tried Harlequins with us abound.
From durance vile our precious selves to keep,
We often had recourse to the flying leap,
To a black face have sometimes owed escape,
And Hounslow Heath has proved the worth of crape.
But how, you ask, can we e'er hope to soar.
Above these scenes, and rise to tragic lore?
Too oft, alas! we've forced the unwilling tear,
And petrified the heart with real fear.
Macbeth a harvest of applause will reap,
For some of us, I fear, have murdered sleep.
His lady, too, with grace will sleep and talk:
Our females have been used at night to walk.
Grant us your favor, put us to the test:
To gain your smiles we'll do our very best,
And without dread of future Turnkey Lockets,
Thus, in an honest way, still _pick your pockets_!

It was by the coral-bound Straits of Torres, reckoned by navigators the
most difficult in the world, that the English government determined a
few years ago to send an envoy to open communication between the
Australian colony and the Dutch possessions of Java and Sumatra. The
Hero was the vessel selected for this perilous mission--a voyage of
twelve hundred miles through seas studded thickly with reefs and islands
of coral, many of which lay just beneath the surface of the
waves--hidden pitfalls of death whose yawning jaws threatened instant
destruction to the unwary voyager. The splendid steamer Cowarra had been