address the Public on the subject of the
"Good" Hippopotamus. If they took the
solid ground they ought to take; if they
united in telling the Public without any
misgiving that he was a creature "of
unsurpassed worth," that "his whole life was
devoted to the protection and affectionate
care of the sick and the afflicted;" that his
self-sacrifices demanded the public admiration
and gratitude;" and that he was "a guide
and example to all who wished to become the
benefactors of Mankind:"—if they did this,
what he MR. CANNANA said, was, that the
Public would judge of their representations
of their Show Animals generally, by the self-
evident nature of these statements; and their
Show Animals, whatever they had been in
the past, could not fail to be handsomely
supported by the Public in future, and to
win their utmost confidence.

This position was universally applauded,
but it was reduced to still plainer terms, by
the straight-forward gentleman with the
hoarse voice who trains the bird and mice.

"In short," said that gentleman, addressing
MR. CANNANA, "if we puts out this here
'Tizement, the Public will know in a minute
that there isn't a morsel of Humbug about
us?"

MR. CANNANA replied, with earnestness,
"Exactly so! My honourable friend has
stated precisely what I mean!"

This distinct statement of the case was much
applauded, and gave the greatest satisfaction
to the assembled company.

It was then suggested by the Secretary,
to MR. TYLER'S tiger, that several thousand
circulars, embodying these statements (with a
promise that the collector should shortly call
for a subscription) ought to be immediately
signed by MR. HAKET SAFI CANNANA,
addressed, and posted. This work, MR. CANNANA
undertook to superintend, and we understand
that some ten thousand of these letters have
since been delivered. The gentleman in waiting
on MR. WOMBWELL'S Sloth (who is of an
ardent temperament) was of opinion that the
company should instantly vote subscriptions
towards the Monument from the funds of
their respective establishments: considering
the fact, that the funds did not belong
to them, of secondary importance to the
erection of a Monument to the "Good"
Hippopotamus. But, it was resolved to defer
this point until the public feeling on the
undertaking should have had an opportunity
of expressing itself.

This, as far as it has yet reached, is the
history of the monument to the "Good"
Hippopotamus. The collector has called, we
understand, at a great many houses, but has
not yet succeeded in getting into several, in
consequence of the entrance being previously
occupied by the collector of the Queen's Taxes,
going his rounds for the annuity to the young
Duke of Cambridge. Whom Heaven
preserve!

THE IRISH USE OF THE GLOBE,
IN ONE LESSON.

ONCE on a sultry summer's day a traveller
halted for rest in a thick wood, beside a
mountain stream. Delighting in the grateful
shade and lulled by the cool ripple of the
water at his feet, he then considered himself
happy among mortals. " Vain world," he
said, " have I at last escaped you? Men, busy
gnats, who would be eagles in your flight,
have I your hum no longer in my ears? The
gossip of the rivulet, the whisper of the wood,
replace the cries of passion and the heart-
grating jest. Here is water; were there bread-
fruit on a single tree, here I would lie down
and live; here I would live in peace, and toil
no more."

A troubled sigh, more human than the sigh
of wind among the foliage, disturbed the
traveller. " Be thankful to your guardian angel,"
articulated the same voice, " be thankful to
your God, young stranger, that in this forest
you have not escaped the sound of a man
speaking." The traveller yawned restlessly,
and felt within himself by no means thankful.

The person who had interrupted his
enjoyment was a hermit of the mountain, not
yet old. He said, " Will you come with me?"

"Why, really"—answered the traveller.

"I have a sight to show that you will long
remember."

"A sight! " said the young man; " but
I assure you I have seen so many exhibitions
and things of that sort—Venice, the
Cossmorama, the Industrious Fleas, the Pope, the
Eruption of Vesuvius, Tom Thumb, Simplon,
Jenny Lind, that really"—

"What I will show you is a thing that you
have not yet seen."

"O yes, some relic—some skull, or a saint's
finger-nail; I assure you, my dear fellow, I
have seen tons of relics."

"Still I will show you something that you
have not seen in all your travelling."

"What is it then?"

"The World."

"The—what?" ejaculated the traveller,
with a slow elevation of his eyebrows. "The
world? Well, now, that is particularly cool.
No, no; it won't do: you can't show me any
up or down, in or out, corner or square acre
of the world I have not already seen. From
the Cider Cellars in London to High Mass in
Saint Peter's at Rome I am equally at home.
All over Europe I am as familiar with Welch
rabbits as with Lachrymæ Christi. No, no.
I know the world quite well enough already."

"You do not; come along with me."

"I'll tell you what," said the traveller,
holding out his open hand; "I'll lay you a
new hat that you can show me nothing new.
Is it a bargain? Done then. So come along."

As they went up the mountain side the
young man chattered idly.

"Why do you talk thus frivolously with
me? " asked the hermit. " When you were