A city friend met us the other morning: "Hark 'ee," said he, "Alderman
Humfery has been selling shares of the Blackwall Railway, which were not in
his possession; and when the directors complained, and gave him notice that
they would bring his conduct before a full meeting, inviting him at the
same time to attend, and vindicate or explain his conduct as he best might,
he not only declined to do so, but hurried off to Dublin. Now, I want to
know this," and he took me by the button, "why was Alderman Humfery, when
he ran away to Dublin, like the boy who ripped up his goose which laid
golden eggs?"--We were fain to give it up.--"Because," said he, with a
cruel dig in the ribs, "because he _cut his lucky!_"

* * * * *


THE BOY JONES'S LOG.

PICKED UP AT SEA.


The following interesting narrative of the sufferings of the youth Jones,
whose indefatigable pursuit of knowledge, under the most discouraging
circumstances, has been the cause of his banishment to a distant shore, was
lately picked up at sea, in a sealed bottle, by a homeward-bound East
Indiaman, and since placed in our hands by the captain of the vessel; who
complimented us by saying, he felt such confidence in PUNCH'S honour and
honesty! (these were his very words), that he unhesitatingly confided to
him the precious document, in order that it might be given to the world
without alteration or curtailment.

We hasten to realise the captain's flattering estimate of our character.