PUPPY PLAYGROUNDS.

THE PRIZE OF FOLLY.

FIELD-MARSHAL MR. PUNCH has for some time cherished the idea of originating a Great Fool Exhibition, with prizes for the most dis. tinguished and remarkable folly. But he has been almost turned from his purpose, by observing that there would be little or no fair play in the competition. There is one person who, as far as Mr. Punch can perceive, would infallibly sack all the prizes. And that person is the Gaol Chaplain. The F.M. never takes up a paper without reading some evidence that the Gaol Chaplains would make the chances of other candidates quite infinitesimal. For instance, here is a bit from the Daily Telegraph:

"JAMES MILES, a ticket-of-leave man, was placed at the bar at Lambeth, charged with carrying on a regular system of plunder on children, a species of offence for which he has been already subjected to three terms of imprisonment of three months each, in addition to three years' penal servitude. He was caught putting his hand into the pocket of a boy named STEWART, and taking a shilling. Wheu taken to the station-house a number of children attended and identified him as the person who had robbed them of various small sums of money and other property; and amongst them was a little child nine years of age, and off whose ears he tore a pair of earrings of the value of 58., and at the time the poor little thing's ears were bleeding from the torn wounds in the flesh."

Well, for this MR. MILES, all things considered, F.M. Mr. Punch would have prescribed, first, an opportunity of becoming very intimately acquainted with that interesting object of natural history, the NineTailed Cat, and then, when medical attentions should have overcome any little excitement that interview might have occasioned, MR. MILES should have been requested to devote the next ten years of his valuable life to some such work as the cleansing old sewers, and old cesspools (like those which poison Brighton), always under such superintendence as should ensure his not neglecting the interests committed to him. But Punch and Chaplains do on this divide, for see here:

"When searched there were found on the prisoner his ticket-of-leave and a letter written by the Chaplain of Dartmoor Prison to a gentleman in town, recommending the prisoner as a proper subject to be sent abroad."

"Sent abroad." His ticket of leave exchanged for a passport duly visé, and this interesting MILES remitted to plunder little French children, we suppose, or little Australian children, or little American

stone fox hounds. We should like to see the same attention bestowed on the Agricultural Labourer in those districts-where his comfort is so obviously overlooked-as is bestowed on the Nobleman's Hounds."

"Happy dogs!" will be the exclamation of the reader when he has perused this interesting paragraph. The notion of providing Playgrounds for his Puppies surely does great credit to the person who first thought of it, and if the Honourable MARK ROLLE be that person, let him have the credit which, surely, he deserves. We mean nothing offensive when we speak of credit; nor would we hint that in this instance there may haply be some need of it. The Honourable MARK ROLLE is doubtless rolling in riches, or he would surely not have thought of squandering his money upon Playgrounds for his Puppies. So, we repeat, let him by all means have the credit he deserves, for doing what no other man that we have ever heard of has ever done, or wished to do.

But surely the Honourable MARK will not stop here. After carefully providing for the com forts of his dogs, he will surely throw a crumb or two of comfort to his labourers. If we believe the Western Times, and we don't see why we shouldn't, their condition is not quite such as their friends would wish to see it, and something might be possibly suggested to improve it. If the Honourable MARK ROLLE would but treat his pack of labourers as he treats his pack of hounds, there really would be nothing left for them to ask of him. Clean kennels-that is, cottages-commodious and warm, a hospital, and plenty of pure water and good food, what more could the heart of labourer desire? and when to this is added a Playground for his Puppies-we mean to say his children-the list of his requirements is more than well complete.

Very Obliging.

WHEN a man wants money, or assistance, the world, as a rule, is very obliging, and indul gent, and-lets him want it.

children, or to tear earrings out of the bleeding ears of little Dutch children, who are rather famous for such ornaments. This is the Gaol Chaplain's notion. He may well reply to Mr. Punch's proposal for the Great Fool Prizes, by quoting Achilles :

"Prizes which none beside ourself could gain,
Should our immortal coursers take the plain."

CALLING NAMES.

WHERE are the old familiar names?
JOHN and JANE and MARY and JAMES?
We never hear of a SUSAN now,

And it's not BILL, but FREDERIC, who follows the plough.
You'll not travel far by Second Class rail,

But you are sure to encounter some FLORENCE pale,
With much aspiration towards fashion in dress,
But with never a trace of loveliness!

Our laundress's infants have no great charms,
Yet they have an EUGENIE in arms;
While VICTOR ALBERT Swings on a gate,
And munches his bacon in village state.
'Twould be hard to say there is any blame,
There is no monopoly in a name;
But it strikes one sometimes as rather absurd
That contrast between the child and the word.

And what will it be when years have flown?
And these finely-named damsels are women grown?
When EVELYN ADA must polish the grates,
While EDITH AMELIA is washing the plates!

Think of it then, ye sensible mothers,
Before you arrange fine names for the others;
For though not to-day, nor perhaps next Sunday,
It will happen as sure as my name's MRS. GRUNDY.

SKYMPEY. "An HONORARY MEMBAR!"

PUNCH TO SOUTHWARK.

Now, Southwark, look alive. You have had one awful warning from Mr. Punch, and this second is given in pure charity and kindness. Make LAYARD safe. That's all. As for the other candidates, the fact that they did not instantly withdraw, with apologies, the moment Mr. Punch pronounced for Nineveh, fatally proves them to be utterly unfit for any employment whatever, except perhaps carrying about sandwich placards with "LAYARD for Ever on them. MR. FAWCETT is the best, but as the gentleman is unfortunately disqualified from examining the pictures in Punch, it is clear that he can never be in a condition exactly to appreciate the position of important questions. As for the Conservative, he is simply and absurdly in the way. And as for a MR. SCOVELL, the third party, who seems to rest his claim upon having done something to bring more barges to the wharves of his friends on the Southwark side, he may be a very good Bargee, but has no claim to be a Senator. We observed that one of his most strenuous supporters cried out that "they didn't want none of LAYARD'S Roman stones there," and the intellectual observation shows the calibre of the Scovellian set. Come, Southwark, throw over the trio of incapables, and exalt yourself among boroughs by electing a Scholar, a Gentleman, and a Statesman, who moreover has been a Minister, and (mark) will be a Minister again.

By the way, some folly has been uttered about the "refutation" of MR. LAYARD'S statements as to the wicked system by which our soldiers were destroyed in the Crimea. So they were refuted, and thus: A man says "I saw twelve black men on the pavement." It turns out that one of the twelve was on the kerb stone, and one was a sweep. Thus he has been refuted. That was what the military pettifoggers did when they

tried to refute MR. LAYARD. And the Reforms he demanded were subsequently effected. That is another refutation. Once more, Southwark, do your duty, or

THE SPREAD OF FASHION.

(An Extract from a beautiful and fashionable Young Lady's Letter.) "I MUST tell you, dear, that I have got such a capital Crinoline. 1 wish I could send you the pattern. It is a perfect love-the most angelic thing I ever saw-so light, and graceful, and easy, and so comfortable that one feels as though one was swimming through the air with it. Of course, it is thoroughly French. I got mine at Boulogne in the Grande Rue. It is beautifully made, and with an extra case, which unbuttons down the front, and allows the steels to slip out, as easily as you would pull a pair of scissors out of their leather sheath. There is no stitching to the steels, I need not tell you. This is a very great convenience, as it enables a lady to send her Crinoline to the wash with the same ease as she would an ordinary petticoat. The body is deeply gored all the way down on both sides, &c., &c."

[And so the letter runs on for twenty lines more, but we think we have printed quite enough to warn the gentlemen to prepare themselves for a very Severe Winter.

A Current Conundrum for Universal Circulation. WHY can the EMPEROR OF THE FRENCH never be POPE? Because by the simple fact, it is impossible three crowns can ever make one Napoleon.

I.

The Doctor.

"A FINER than your newborn child," The Doctor said, "I never saw," And I, but half believing, smiled

To think he thought me jolly raw. And then I viewed the crimson thing, And listened to its doleful squeal, And rather wished the nurse would bring The pap-boat with its earliest.meal. My wife remarked, "I fear, a snub," The Doctor, "Madam, never fear," "Tis hard, Ma'am, in so young a cub

To say.

Then Nurse, "A cub! a Dear!"

II.

The Glove.

"Twere meet you tied the knocker up," The Doctor laughed, and said, "Good-bye, And till you drown that yelping pup

Your lady will not close an eye." Then round I sauntered to the mews, And Ponto heard his fate was near,How few of coachmen will refuse

A crown to spend in beastly beer! And then I bought a white kid glove, LUCINA's last and favourite sign, Wound it the knocker's brass above, And tied it with a piece of twine.

PUNCH'S PLAN FOR PREVENTING WAR.

(Registered Prospectus.)

EVERYBODY knows why there is now no Duelling. People may sometimes talk nonsense about the world having grown more sensible and humane, or they may talk other nonsense about its having been time for gentlemen to discard duelling when it descended to the lower orders, e. g. the celebrated case where the barber fought the linendraper on a question of honour, and the shaver of beards winged the shaver of ladies. The law may have had a little to do with it, but the law is not always regarded with the reverence due to it, ladies smuggle lace, peasants occasionally poach, and gentlemen gamble behind iron-doors. There was something more than civilisation, pride, or respect for the law required to put an end to private war.

Life Assurance did it.

Every decent man's life is assured, and policies are declared forfeit if the decent man is put out of the way by a duel. So nobody challenges anybody, or if any wild Irishman, vicious Frenchman, or any other valueless life were to invite an assured life to the combat, the assured life would knock the other life down, and then assign him to the police.

Why not try this excellent remedy on a large scale.

Let a Company be formed to be called the THRONE ASSURANCE SOCIETY.

But as kings never die, the object of the Society must be to make a king comfortable in his circumstances by paying him a bonus at specific times, and by advancing him money on the usual conditions of assurance offices. His reign would then be always happy and comfortable. But, if he goes to war, the Policy shall be void, and the Throne Company is to have a right to confiscate his taxes, and send the other kings, who have been his securities, to quod.

The speculation would answer uncommonly well, for subjects would be too happy to see that the premiums, which preserve them from the miseries of war, were regularly paid up.

The Office would not be liable if a King were kicked out by his own subjects, as a Sovereign with the command of money ought to be able to make his people perfectly content.

Sovereigns would of course have to submit to the usual examination. A King proposing to assure might be asked :

1. How about your Constitution?

2. Have you ever been afflicted with Divine Right, or any other insanity?

3. Have any of your ancestors died violent deaths, as by the block, guillotine, private strangulation, &c.

4. Are you subject to Priests, or any similar affliction?

5. Give the name of your polítical adviser, and say how long he has known you.

6. Are you assured in the Holy Alliance, or any other old office?

A STINGING HEAD DRESS.

WE read in one of the Magazines of Fashion as follows:

"Pretty little caps are worn of a round form encircled with a ruche." Now, from what we recollect of our French, a ruche is a hive, and we can hardly imagine that as being about the most becoming straw bonnet that a lady could wear. We know that many of the beautiful sex carry their love of the fashions to a degree of madness, but still to encircle one's face with a hive, would be decidedly so certain a method of getting "a bee in one's bonnet" that we cannot believe any woman in her senses would think of lending her countenance to it. It is true that bees delight to live in the neighbourhood of flowers, such as gallantry delights in poetically supposing bloom perennially on lovely woman's features; nevertheless, it is doubtful whether the most floricultural beauty would like to expose the roses and tulips of her countenance to the risk of being stung, even if she could be sure that from the honied result there would be distilled for her the very "sweetest of bonnets."