MORAL.

Science, though it pays "cent. per cent.,"
Is destitute of pity;
And makes hash of the sentiment
Dear to the Nursery ditty.

* * * * *

ROBERT AS HUMPIRE.

I was a takin of my favrit walk, larst Friday was a week, from Charing
Cross round to my own privet residence in Queen street, when a yung
lad tapped me on the sholder and said to me, "Please, Sir, are you the
sillybrated Mr. ROBERT, the Citty Waiter?" In course I replied, "Yes,
most suttenly;" when he said, "Then this yere letter's for you, and
I wants a emediat arnser." Concealing my wisibel estonishment, I took
him hup Healy Place, where the werry famous Lawyer lives, as can git
you out of any amownt of trubbel, and then opened the letter, and read
the following most estonishing words, wiz.:--"Mr. ROBERT,--can you
come _immediately_ to the ---- Club, as you alone can decide a very
heavy wager that is now pending between two Noble Lords who are here
awaiting your arrival. You will be well paid for your trouble. The
Bearer will show you the way.--J.N." I coud learn nothink from my
jewwenile guide, so I told him to lead the way, and off we started,
and soon arived at the Club.

I need ardly say that, being all quite fust-rate swells, they receaved
me in the most kindest manner, and ewen smiled upon me most freely,