Punch, or the London Charivari | Page 3

I hope Dinky (Rosalind's pet name for her lover) will find the topaz; he is a dear painstaking boy. I have never had such a lovely piece of jewellery in my life and I am going to be married in it." (Photo of Miss Twitter on back page. Inset (1) The brooch; (2) Mr. Micklebrown.)
SEARCH FOR MISSING TOPAZ AT COCKLESEA.
Owing to the publicity given to his story by The Daily Trail hundreds of willing hands assisted Mr. Micklebrown in his search yesterday. Pickaxes, shovels and wooden spades were being freely wielded on the cliff. Miss Twitter writes to us: "Every moment I expect a telegram from Dinky that the topaz is found. I can never be grateful enough to The Daily Trail for the interest it has taken in my brooch."
DRAMATIC SEQUEL TO SEARCH FOR COCKLESEA TOPAZ.
As a result of the wide circulation of The Daily Trail the brooch picked up by Mr. Micklebrown on the cliff on Bank Holiday has been claimed by Miss Ivy Peckaby, of Wimbledon. Miss Peckaby identified the brooch from the photograph which appeared in our issue of Friday. Conversing with our representative, Miss Peckaby, a slim, golden-haired girl in hand-knitted cerise jumper with cream collar and cuffs, said, "I jumped for joy when I recognised my darling brooch on your picture page. I must have lost it at Cocklesea on Bank Holiday, but I didn't miss it until two Sundays afterwards. I shall never forget what I owe to The Daily Trail."
Questioned as to the missing topaz Miss Peckaby sighed. "It has always been missing," she said. "You see, Clarence" (Miss Peckaby's affianced husband) "bought the brooch second-hand; he is going to have another topaz put in when he can afford it; but topazes are so dreadfully dear." (Photo of Miss Peckaby recognising her brooch on the back page of The Daily Trail.)
LAST CHAPTER IN COCKLESEA ROMANCE.
FREE GIFT OF A TOPAZ BY THE DAILY TRAIL.
Yesterday Miss Ivy Peckaby was the happy recipient of a topaz at the hands of a representative of The Daily Trail. The stone, which is of magnificent colour and quality, is the free gift of The Daily Trail. The Daily Trail is also defraying the entire cost of setting the gem in Miss Peckaby's brooch. Photo on back page of Miss Peckaby acknowledging _The Daily Trail's_ free gift of a topaz. Inset: The topaz.)
I have heard nothing further from Micklebrown.
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_RARA AVIS._
Many birds there be that bards delight in; I to one my tribute verse would bring; Patience, reader! no, it's not the nightin- gale I'm going to sing.
Sweet to lie at ease and for a while hark To a "spirit that was never bird;" Still I don't propose to sing the skylark, As perhaps inferred.
I'm content to leave it to a fitter Tongue than mine to hymn the "moan of doves," Or the swallow, apt to "cheep and twitter Twenty million loves."
I'm intrigued by no precocious rook, who Haunts the high hall garden calling "Maud;" Mine's no "blithe newcomer" like the cuckoo Wordsworth used to laud.
Never could the blackbird or the throstle (From the poet each has had his due) Win from me such perfectly colossal Gratitude as you.
You, I mean, accommodating partridge, By some lucky chance (the only one, Spite of much expenditure of cartridge) Fallen to my gun.
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[Illustration: OUT OF THE FRYING PAN.
WAR VETERAN. "THEY TOLD ME I WAS FIGHTING FOR DEAR LIFE, BUT I NEVER DREAMT IT WAS GOING TO BE AS DEAR AS ALL THIS."]
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[Illustration: _Father._ "OH, YES, I USED TO PLAY QUITE A LOT OF CRICKET. I ONCE MADE FORTY-SEVEN."
_Son._ "WHAT--WITH A HARD BALL, FATHER?"]
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THE HUMAN CITY AND SUBURBAN.
The idea and the name for it were the invention of the ingenious Piggott. I am his first initiate, and with the zeal of the neophyte I am endeavouring to make his discovery more widely known. The game, which is healthy and invigorating, can be carried on in any of the remoter suburbs, where the train-service is not too frequent. All that is required is a fairly long and fairly straight piece of road, terminating in a railway-station, and a sufficiency of City men of suitable age and rotundity.
The scheme is based on the Herd instinct--on the tendency of most creatures to follow their leader. For example, if you are walking down to your early train, with plenty of time to spare as you suppose, and you observe the man in front of you looking at his watch and suddenly quickening his steps, first to a smart walk, then to a brisk jog-trot, it is not in human nature, however you may trust your own watch, not to follow suit. This is precisely what Piggott led me to do one morning