_F._ Well, dear, [_kissing her,_] perhaps there's a vacancy for _you!_ I
expect the Universe will be called in, one of these nights, to admire a
new winking, blinking, and saucy little violet star--the neatest thing
going! But not, I hope, just yet.

_D._ Boo--hoo--hoo--hoo!

_F._ Well, hang the Pleiades! Boo--hoo--hoo--too!

* * * * *

~Good for Something Better.~

We like enthusiasm. We are ourselves quite given to the admiration of
great people, as they, in their turn, we have reason to believe, are
given to admiration of their dear PUNCHINELLO. But when an English
adorer says that he considers "MR. CHARLES SUMNER fit for a throne," we
are tempted to inquire what throne there is fit for _him_? The fact is,
thrones have come to be rather more disreputable than three-legged
stools. "Every inch a king" may mean six feet of mad-man, or five feet
of mad-woman. We sincerely hope that there is no intention in England of
making MR. SUMNER the King of Spain--we mean of abducting him for the
purpose; for of course, he would never voluntarily assume the purple.

* * * * *

~The Difference.~

Fenian General O'NEILL bore down upon Canada with a martial charge, but
he was sent back in a Marshal's charge.