That tall, spare form, that curl-crowned head, the knitting
Of supple hands behind it as he sat,
That quaint face-wrinkling smile like sunshine flitting,
The droll, dry comment, the quotation pat;
The small oft-loaded pipe, of ancient moulding,
The brazen box that held the well-loved weed;
Who shall forget who once was graced by holding
In friendship's clasp the hand now still indeed?
Farewell, great artist, comrade staunch and loyal!
Few simpler lives our feverish age hath seen.
Could pomp high-pinnacled, or trappings royal,
Add honour to the memory of CHARLES KEENE?
* * * * *
[Illustration: GOBLIN TRANSFORMATION SCENE FROM THE IRISH EXTRAVAGANZA
OF THE O'RIP VAN WINKLE.
_Where the Home-Ruler of Butt's time awakes to find all the would-be
dic-taters suddenly become mere mushrooms._]
* * * * *
THE SHAH (LEFEVRE) AND THE SULTAN.
[Illustration]
Over a series of weeks preceding Christmas, Europe was disturbed by
rumours of a momentous interview reported to have taken place on
the banks of the unsuspecting Bosphorus.
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