COMMISSIONER HARVEY and his old crony, Joe Hume, were talking lately of
the wonders which the latter had seen in his travels--"You have been on
Mont Blanc," said Whittle. "Certainly," replied the other. "And what did
you see there?" "Why really," said Joe, "it is always so wrapped up in a
double-milled fog, that there is nothing to be seen from it." "Nothing!"
echoed he of the Blues; "I never knew till now why it was called Mount
_Blank_." As this was the Commissioner's first attempt at a witticism, we
forgive him.

* * * * *


MORE FASHIONABLE INTELLIGENCE.

(FROM OUR OWN ONE.)

A marriage is on the _tapis_ between Mr. John Smith, the distinguished
toll-collector at the Marsh Gate, and Miss Julia Belinda Snooks, the
lovely and accomplished daughter of the gallant out-pensioner of Greenwich
Hospital. Should the wedding take place, the bridegroom will be given away
by Mr. Levy, the great toll-contractor; while the blushing bride will be
attended to the altar by her mother-in-law, the well-known laundress of
Tash-street. The _trousseau_, consisting of a selection from a bankrupt's
stock of damaged _de laines_, has been purchased at Lambeth House; and a
parasol carefully chosen from a lot of 500, all at one-and-ninepence, will
be presented by the happy bridegroom on the morning of the marriage. A
cabman has already been spoken to, and a shilling fare has been sketched
out for the eventful morning, which is so arranged as to terminate at the
toll-house, from which Mr. Smith can only be absent for about an hour,
during which time the toll will be taken by an amateur of celebrity.