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MR. PUNCH'S PREDICTIONS FOR 1892. JANUARY.

THE year commences on a Friday, which implies that there will be much misfortune. Immediately taxes will become due, which will cause much heart-burning and disappointment. A well-known statesman will make a statement that will cause apprehension in the capital of one of the great Powers. A few stock-brokers will be very active, but not in legitimate business. Many persons will visit Paris and spend some time on the boulevards. The wearer of a Crown in the North of Europe will have to beware of cold. On the 11th there will be much movement in the Law Courts, and the Judges will appear in state and walk on foot to the apartments they usually occupy. Counsel and solicitors will hold many consultations, and a Chancery suit will be commenced, leading to great subsequent disaster. After lingering for more than a week, on the 9th, Fire Insurance expires, amidst universal regret. Their financial condition will permit of a their own property. The weather will be cold, and snow may be expected even if it does not actually appear.

FOR FEBRUARY. THE month will commence with a game soon to end, for partridge-shooting ceases on the 1st. On the 3rd a well-known statesman will keep his birthday, chiefly because he was born on this date sixty-two years ago. He will be visited several times by one of the Judges who presided at the Parnell Commission, who on the last occasion will remark that he represents "Many Happy Returns of the Day." Parliament will meet, and drink -in spite of the attempts of some mis

weather will be changeable, the state of the atmosphere varying from comparative warmth to superlative cold. A modern Dramatist will write a play with a purpose, which purpose will be divulged by the speedy shutting up of the theatre in which the play is produced. The condition of Ireland will attract some attention, and several harsh things will be said about the Chief Secretary.

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THE PARLIAMENTARY ALMANACK FOR THE SESSION OF 1892.
BY ZADKIEL, M.P. (Continued from Page 4.)

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1

JULY.
Mars is now
stationary in
Aquarius,
17° 14', to
the grief of
Russia, the
perplexity of
Prussia, and
the petulanco
of Pomer-
ania. Famino
is only too
likely to stalk
through the
Isle of Dogs,
and there will
be trouble at

the Admiralty. Saturn is
creeping up to the quartile
of the place of the solar
cclipse of June 17, 1890,
filling the bitter cup of
the Chief Secretary to the
brim. Members desiring

to take their seats will please come to the table. Uranus
stationary in 1° 59' of Scorpio is of fresh evil omen for
the Lord CHANCELLOR. He is warned to avoid travelling by
water or riding on the garden-seat of an omnibus. Towards
the end of the month (the 9th instant being the day of the solar
conjunction with Venus) the House of Commons will bo
counted out. The 17th is a propitious day for Members re-
presenting agricultural constituencies. Unfortunately, there
will bo no sitting of the House on this day. An accident to
an ironclad moored off the Terrace. Duchesses and others
are warned not to take tea on the Terrace on the afternoon
of this day, for Mercury in his ruling sign (Leo) meets with
the opposition of Mars. Mars, as the Leader of the Opposition
in the Solar System, takes a fraternal interest in Mr. G.

AUGUST.-Mars still having a high old time in the high old 'evings. He is now very near the Earth, and with his mailed hand urges on the Irish Members to deeds of ruthless insubordination. About this time the SPEAKER may be expected to observe, "Order! Order!" Saturn re-enters the sign Libra at 31 minutes past 9 on the evening of the 31st. Consequently we shall hear of trouble in Kent, Macedonia, and Staffordshire. Questions on these subjects will be addressed to the Baron DE BOOK-WORMS, and, the Moon holding the third degree of the sign Scorpio or the last degree of Virgo, Mr. JULIUS 'ANNIBAL PICTON will move the adjournment of the House, in order to discuss, as a matter of urgent public importance, the unsatisfactory replies of the noble Baron. The 4th is a very evil day for Her Majesty's Ministers, threatening danger by fire or colic, according to their nativities. Let those who were born in this month beware of danger by water, never going out without an umbrella, or attempting to cross the Thames by fording it. Morocco will experience some vibration, and Hon. Members whose rates were due on the 1st of March, will do well to see they are paid. The Moon being held in the 25th degree of Virgo, ladies following the course of debate from the Gallery of the House of Commons, are warned to beware of disappointment in love or matrimony. The position of the Moon at this time is also favourable to saltatory exercise on the part of the COW. Mr. JESSE COLLINGS is warned to hold out three acres beneath the orb, so as to break the fall of the cow. As the Sun forms the trine aspect with Jupiter shortly before the New Moon, Parliament will be prorogued this month, if, Jupiter being in the fourth house, the dissolution has not already taken place.

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BANE AND ANTIDOTE.
OUR latest New Humorist lately was moved
To say that the world can't exist without
merriment.

His dogma, of course, yet remains to be
proved,

But oh how he'd help us to try the experiment.

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MR. PUNCH'S HANDBOOK OF DEFINITIONS. (For the Use of Young Writers.)

A FASHIONABLE BEAUTY. (a.) A PRETTY moth that flutters by night, and is singed in Society scandals.

(b.) A modern HELEN, who frequently prefers the WORTH of Paris, to the reputation of her husband. Her face launches a

thousand photographers, and burns the topless towers of every battered old roué's heart. (c.) An exotic tree which journalists shake to obtain the paragraph-fruit from its branches. It flourishes for a season, and is then cut down to provide fuel for detraction engines.

A MAN ABOUT TOWN. (a.) A BEING whose top-hat always shines, whose frock-coat invariably fits, whose boots never lack polish, and whose trousers are born turned up. He knows intuitively the exact seasons when a suit of dittoes and a round hat worn in St. James's Street mark the man of fashion. (b.) One who spends the greater part of the year in the country. His income is independent, his language free, but he himself is ruled by his valet. (c.) A hero to his lady

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THE ASTROLOGER'S BRAY. VOICE of the Stars? Oh, empty annual | The wise world heeds not your prophetic bore, pother

It is, indeed, a "Voice and nothing more." Which goes in at one year and out at t'other!

ODE TO SOAP. I'VE written verses to her eyes,

Her snowy-white, serenely high brow, The charm that in her features lies, A dozen sonnets to her eyebrow. Last week she ventured to elope, Alas! with quite another fellow, So I will sing a song to Soap

Soap, honest, pure, transparent, yellow!

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When I arise at early morn,

(Or even when at late), who keener Than you in helping to adorn

My person, or to make me-cleaner?
When black (not comely), I confess
Yourself at once I always fly to,
I use you, who excel. Ah! yes,
You take the cake, and so do I too!
Called to the Bar. Of course I am-

The Bar of Soap. In all one's troubles,
What more successful way to dam

The flood of grief than blowing bubbles? And yet, a thousand years ago,

When men wore woad, and huts were wattled,

Had they the happiness to know
The magic mysteries of mottled?

I do not know, I cannot tell,

I don't indulge in rash assertions; But this I know, and know full well, I owe my skin to your exertions. And if I should have done a deed

Of gore particularly flagrant,

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[rant.

You still befriend me in my need,
You take my hands, and leave them frag-
O Soap, preserver of mankind,

True godliness's cleanly neighbour,
The Duke through you grows more refined,
The housemaid's face reflects your labour.
Let mundane systems have their day,

Let men depart to shades infernal, The future brings us no dismay, Since Soap (like Hope) will spring eternal.

"THRIFT, THRIFT, HORATIO!" (By a contemplative Man at a Crematorium.) THERE's one thing in these mortuary burnings, [Urnings. A man pays his "last debt" with his own

NEVER HAVE A CADDIE WITH A SQUINT!

A LAY OF THE LINKS.

THEY told me he was skilful, and assiduous, and true,

They told me he had "carried" for the bravest and the best. Ilis hair was soldier-scarlet, and his eyes were saucer blue,

And one seemed looking eastward, whilst the other fronted west.

IIis strabismus was a startler, and it

shook my nerve at once;

It affected me with dizziness, like gazing from a height.

I straddled like a duffer, and I wavered like a dunce,

And my right hand felt a left one, and my left felt far from right.

As I watched him place my ball with his visual axes crossed,

The very sunshine glimmered, with a queer confusing glint,

I felt like a sick lubber on Atlantic surges
tossed.-

Oh never have a Caddie with a
squint!

I'm an "irritable duffer"-so my enemies
declare,--

That is I'm very sensitive, and play a modest game.

A very little puts me off my stroke, and, standing there,

With his boot-heels at right angles, and his optics much the same,

IIe maddened me-no less, and I felt that

all success

Against bumptious young McBUNGO was impossible that day. I'd have parted with a fiver to have beaten him. His dress Was so very very swagger, and his scarlet cap so gay.

He eyed my cross-eyed Caddie with a supercilious smirk,

I tried to set my features, and my nerves, like any flint; But my "knicker'd" knees were knocking as I wildly set to work. Oh! never have a Caddie with a squint!

I tried to look away from the spoiler of my play, But for fiendish fascination he was like a squinting snake; All the muffings man can muff I contrived to muff that day; My eyes were all askew and my nerves were all ashake.

I seemed to squint myself, and not only with my eyes,

And all the while MCBUNGO-the young crocodile-bewailed What he called my "beastly luck," though his joy was plain as print,

Whilst that squint grew worse and worse at each shot of mine which failed.

Oh! never have a Caddie with a squint!

In "playing through the green" with my "brassey" I was seen At most disinal disadvantage on that miserable day;

He pointed through the rushes with cocleeyed, sardonic spleen,

I followed his squint guidance, and I struck a yard away;

But oh! 'twas worst of all, when I tried to hole the ball.

Oh, the Ogre! How he squinted at that crisis of the game!

His hideous strabismus held me helpless, a blind thrall,

Shattered my nerves completely, put my skill to open shame.

That squint would, I am sure, have upset the Solar System

Oho! the impish impudence, the gruesome goggle-glint!

The low, malicious chuckle, as he softly muttered, "Missed 'im!"

No, never have a Caddie with

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My knees, my hands, my el- A bows with obliquity were

rife.

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Oh! never have a Caddie with a squint!

Miss BINKS was looking on! On
that maiden I was gone,
Just as she was gone on Golf,
in perfervid Scottish style.

On my merits, with MCBUNGO, I should just about have won,
But my shots to-day were such as made even EFFIE smile;
Oh, the lumps of turf I lifted! Oh, the easy balls I missed!

Oh, the bunkers I got bogged in! And at last a gentle scorn Curled the lips I would have given my pet "Putter" to have kissed.

Such a bungler as myself her loved Links had never borne;

she will not let him play

At the game he so adores. True she's wealthy as the Mint.

Golf, with EFFIE, I have passed many a happy day,

But we never have a
Caddie with a squint!

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Caddie

who's a duffer, or a Caddie who gets drunk;

A Caddie who regards all other Caddies as his foes; A Caddie who will snigger when you fumble, fail or funk; A Caddie who will whistle, or seems ever on the doze; A Caddie who's too tiny; or too big and broad of bulk;

A

A Caddie who gets playing
with your clubs upon the
sly,

Caddie who will chatter, or a
Caddie who will sulk;

All these are calculated a Golf
devotee to try;

All these are most vexatious to
a Golfer of repute;
And still more so to a novice.
But just take a friendly
hint!

Take a Caddie who's a duffer, or a drunkard, or a brute,

But never try a Caddie with a squint!!!

A LADY'S LINES ON LEAP YEAR.
WHEN NEAVES' Ape with the pliable thumb and big brain,
Who the gift of the gab had just managed to gain,
As a lord of creation established his reign,

Which nobody can deny.
He established no doubt, female progress t› stop,
The "right" of the sex the great question to "pop"
(As well as to vote, and to smoke, and talk shop),
Which nobody can deny.

O artful old Ape, in transition to Man,
To keep down poor Woman you hit on a plan
Which they once in four years may reverse-if they can,
Which nobody can deny.
Our vertebræ (moral) you first took away,
And then once in four years you allotted a day
For the polypus sex at top-sawyer to play.

Which nobody can deny.
O Great Master Monkey, the progress of years
At last fills your lordship with Simian fears;
The Woman's Rights Question assails your long ears,
Which nobody can deny.
But when the great Pop-Right is ours, recollect
We'll grant you-what more can your Apeship expect?-
The right,
-once in four years you know-to reject!
Which nobody can deny!

SIMPLE STORIES.

"Be always kind to animals wherever you may be!"

No. II.-VIOLET AND THE PORPOISE. VIOLET was a bright, merry little girl who was always full of fun. She was rather too apt to be thoughtless. Her Father was very witty and jocose, and she would often try to imitate him.

She

seemed to forget what was a virtue among grown-ups was unbecoming in a child, and would sometimes say something to cause a laugh without reflecting how much pain it gave to others. For the sake of a joke--to make a mere play upon words, or a pun as it is called, she would not infrequently make some silly remark which would subsequently cause her the keenest regret.

In vain did her kind Mamma impress upon her that puns would entail punishment, and it seemed equally futile for her to be told that punning was the special prerogative of Papas.

It was not only to her kind parents and friends that she would behave in this manner. Poor inoffensive dumb animals she would treat in a similar fashion. She would tell the Cow that she was a "cowrious kind of animal": she would say, "I bullieve you, my boy," to the Bull, and would inform the Pig that it was very "pigculiar." One day her Father found her telling a large Cochin that, if it did not move on, it would be "acotchin' it," and heard her subsequently remark, with regard a tamarisk hedge, "Itam-a-risky kind of fence." This was too much for her long suffering parent.

to

66

He

found he was being beaten on his own ground, his position as family joker was being imperilled, and his merry jests were beginning to fall rather flat. He at once packed off this shortpetticoated punster to a strong-minded, serious, matter-of-fact governess by the seaside, who looked upon punning, joking, and whistling on the Sabbath as all very much in the same light. The governess had instructions she might take what measures she pleased, but the little girl was to be cured.

One day there was a terrific storm on the coast. When it abated,

it was reported that a very large Porpoise had been washed ashore. Everyone went down to see it, and among them VIOLET and her governess. The little lass was in high spirits, for she had been indoors in disgrace for the last two days. VI was not a bit afraid. She danced up to the Porpoise, who was puffing and blowing and flapping his tail on the sand. The impudent little puss boldly approached the monster of the deep, and giving him a good ringing slap, said, "Poor old thing! Did it come ashore on porpoise?"

In a moment the Porpoise lashed out its tail in anger, caught the child on the side of the face, and knocked her into the sea! With great difficulty she was rescued! It taught her a lesson she never forgot. She returned home quite cured. She never makes silly puns upon poor dumb animals now, and they have grown to respect her very much. If ever she feels inclined to return to her old foolish habit, one glance at the silver porpoise-charmwhich her dear Father has given her-is sufficient to remind her of her folly, and prevent her transgressing.

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A PHOTOGRAPH.

(a.) THOUGH a man who always says No" cannot be considered a good fellow, yet a photograph may be described as a proof of camaraderie, based on nothing but negatives.

(b.) The flattery of a human face by a celestial body.

(c.) Purchasable immortality, warranted to fade, in several sizes.

(d.) The final stage in a struggle with a cheerful expression.

(e.) An image which, in proportion as it offends one's vanity, may be counted upon to delight one's friends.

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