Good Dr. HEINRICH HOFFMANN's glories,
Which round the world have travelled gaily,
By Nursery pets consulted daily?
If not, just get "Shock-headed PETER";
Read of AUGUSTUS, the soup-eater,
And stuck-up "JOHNNY Head-in-Air,"
Who came down "bump" all unaware.
And "Fidgety PHILIP." You'll confess them
Pointed,--and don't try to suppress them,
Like Princes, party-men and papers
Which can't admire _all_ your mad capers!
My Wilful WILHELM, you'll not win
By dint of mere despotic din;
By kicking everybody over
In whom a critic you discover,
Or shouting in your furious way,
"Oh, take the nasty _Punch_ away!
I won't have any _Punch_ to-day!"

* * * * *

WHAT THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF, MR. PUNCH, SAYS TO THE ARTISTS'
CORPS.--"Gentlemen, you would no doubt like a brush with the enemy, to
whom you will always show a full face. Any colourable pretence for
a skirmish won't suit your palette. You march with the colours, and,
like the oils, you will never run.' You all look perfect pictures, and
everybody must admire your well-knit frames. Gentlemen, I do not know
whether you will take my concluding observation as a compliment or
not, but I need hardly say that it is meant to be both truthful and
complimentary, and it is this, that though you are all Artists, you