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The Irish Yolk.—In the name of the profit—eggs! Irish co-operators have already made giant strides in the production of milk and butter, and now the Irish Co-operative Agency has decided, so says the Cork Daily Herald, to "take up the egg trade." We hope the egg-traders won't be "taken up," too; if so, the trade would be arrested just when it was starting, and where would the profit be then? "It is stated that many Irish eggs now reach the English market dirty, stale, and unsorted," so that wholesale English egg-merchants have preferred to buy Austrian and French ones. Ireland not able to compete with the foreigner! Perish the thought! A little technical education judiciously applied will soon teach the Irish fowl not to lay "shop 'uns."

Tantalus.—Irish Waiter (to Commercial Gent, who had done a good stroke of business already). "Brikfast! Yessir. What'll ye have, yer honour—tay or coffee?"

Commercial Gent (hungry and jubilant). "Coffee and fried sole and mutton cutlet to follow!"

Waiter (satirically). "Annything ilse, surr?"

Commercial Gent. "Yes, stewed kidneys. Ah and a savoury omelette!"

Waiter. "Yessir. Annything——"

Commercial Gent. "No, that will do——"

Waiter (with calm contempt). "And do ye expict to foind the loikes o' them things here? Sure, ye'll get what yez always got—bacon an' iggs!"

From an Irish Reporter in a Troubled District.—"The police patrolled the street all night, but for all that there was no disturbance."

Mr. MacSimius. "Well, Oi don't profess to be a particularly cultivated man meself; but at laste me progenitors were all educated in the hoigher branches!"