porridge and marmalade. I have engaged a policeman to knock at my
front door three times every night, to wake me. I then sit up in bed
and consume oat-cakes soaked in orange-juice. I also dress in yellow,
and I have written to Belfast to ask if I can be admitted to an Orange
Society there, but hitherto I have received no reply. You will, I
think, agree with me that I am giving the new treatment a fair trial.
Yours truly,

TABITHA NUPKINS.

* * * * *

[Illustration: UNLUCKY COMPLIMENTS.

_Shy but Susceptible Youth_. "ER--_COULD_ YOU TELL ME WHO THAT YOUNG
LADY IS--SKETCHING?"

_Affable Stranger_. "SHE HAS THE MISFORTUNE TO BE MY WIFE!"

_Shy but Susceptible One_ (_desperately anxious to please, and losing
all presence of mind_). "OH--THE MISFORTUNE'S ENTIRELY _YOURS_, I'M
_SURE_!"]

* * * * *

THE BAMSGATE SANDS.

It's hey for the sands, for the jolly Ramsgate Sands,
Where the children shout and tumble, spade and bucket in their
hands.