]
* * * * *
Colonel Sibthorp thinks he recollects having been Hannibal once--long
ago--although he cannot account for his having been beaten in the _Pun_-ic
war.
* * * * *
THE LIGHT OF ALL NATIONS.
The public are aware that this important national undertaking, which is
now about to be commenced, is to be a prodigious cast-iron light-house on
the Goodwin Sands. Peter Borthwick and our Sibby are already candidates
for the office of universal illuminators. Peter rests his claims chiefly
on the brilliancy of his ideas, as exemplified in his plan for lighting
the metropolis with bottled moonshine; while Sib. proudly refers to our
columns for imperishable evidences of the intensity of his wit, conscious
that these alone would entitle him to be called "the light of all
nations." We trust that Sir Robert Peel will exercise a sound discretion
in bestowing this important situation. Highly as we esteem Peter's
dazzling talents--profoundly as we admire his bottled moonshine scheme--we
feel there is no man in the world more worthy of being elevated to the
lantern than our refulgent friend Sibthorp.
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