* * * * *

WHY I DON'T GO OUT OF TOWN, FOR THE AUTUMN?--Because I've been pretty
well everywhere, but always _quite_ well in London.

* * * * *

[Illustration: BRIC À BRAC.

_Lady Croesus_. "OH, WHAT A SWEET TABLE! WHERE DID YOU GET IT, MY
DEAR? OH, I SEE HERE'S THE MAN'S CARD." (_Spelling the label._)
"'TABLE--LOUIS QUINZE.' LOUIS QUINZEY! WHAT A HORRID NAME! AND WHY
HASN'T HE PUT HIS ADDRESS?"]

* * * * *

THE GERMAN WATERS.

A promenade with tongues alive
That every phrase of OLLENDORFF use;
And "_Luther's Hymn_" at half-past five
To drag you from the arms of Morpheus;
Fat Germans in their awful "Fracks,"
Pale Frenchmen, too, a bit _décolletés_,
And dapper Britons with attacks
Of livers and digestions faulty.

A garden fair with "Quellen" foul--
_Ach, Himmel_! How they taste those "Quellen"!
Then rolls and coffee, next a prowl