the Chief Commissioner to visit Paris, and, mounted upon a comfortable horse, let him make the acquaintance of the delightful sentiers laid out as rides in the Bois de Boulogne. This will be a first-rate French exercise for him, and he will learn a great deal from it. The Duke, who is fond of equitation, especially in Battersea Park, must admit that the equestrians of London are very badly off for variety. Up and down Rotten Row, once into the siding by the Barracks, once to the dismal ride on the North side, and once back again by the ride that opens on to the Mausoleum-like Magazine,—which of all London Magazines is the dreariest,—this, and only this, is the daily burden of the patient London rider's song. "How long? How long?" as Mr. Wilson Barrett used to be always exclaiming in The Silver King, or Claudian, or both. How long—will mounted London put up with this, which is the reverse of a merry-go-round?

Then we have to be thankful for the small mercy of a narrow strip of a ride, barely room for one, along Constitution Hill, and for that other strip, a trifle wider, in Birdcage Walk, which is always crowded with children, and one might as well be riding through nursery grounds. Why shouldn't there be here a cut right across the grass, from The Walk of the Birdcages to middle of Piccadilly?

If George Ranger, the Chief Commissioner of Police, and the Chief of the Board of Works would combine, we might get something done which would benefit the riders—riders haggard and jaded—and materially assist the smallest circulation (possessed by those who ride to live) in the world. There is one thing that ought to be put down, and put down with a strong hand,—and that is plenty of gravel at all the gates; but especially round and about the Marble Arch, which is a most dangerously slippery pass.

THE "SILK" EXHIBITION.

What Our Artist Expected to Find There.

RAILWAY UNPUNCTUALITY REPORT;

Or, What it may probably come to.

That the new Legislation has begun to tell favourably on the conduct of the traffic of the leading lines cannot for a moment be doubted after glancing at the thirteenth Bi-weekly Record, published at the Companies' expense, according to the Provisions of the recent Act, on the back of all their passenger-tickets. It is satisfactory to note how, in something like six weeks, punctuality in the train service seems really almost established, the only train arriving one minute late being one of the Edinburgh Expresses, of which the boiler of the engine blew up at Grantham, thereby causing a little delay, which, however, was picked up before the conclusion of the run by extra steaming. The heavy penal system which the new Legislation has introduced, is, of course, answerable for this delightful change; but a glance at the following table for the six weeks since the Act has come into operation, will show how effectively and rapidly it has worked:—

* Precautionary sentence.

The list of officials, as furnished in the above Schedule, undergoing their various periods of punishment, is an encouraging sign to the travelling public, and it is satisfactory to notice that the old unpunctuality that marked the first week, followed up as it was by a rigorous application of the new law, instantly disappeared as if by magic, when the Companies began really to understand their responsibilities and their penalties under the new Act. It is confidently, therefore, to be hoped, that next week's record may possibly be an entirely clean one, and that, the only method of ensuring punctuality, namely, the infliction of a penalty on the Authorities who can control it, may be found in practice to be entirely successful.

Suggestion Gratis.—Why doesn't some enterprising publisher engage Sergeant Palmer of the 19th Knowles's Century Powder Magazine to write a Military Romance? There has been nothing of the sort worth mentioning since Charles Lever. The Sergeant could write under the nom de guerre of Micky Free, Redivivus.

(Signed) Baron de Book-worms.

Q. If several Householders who love peace and quietness on Sunday, should combine to put down the Salvation Army's so-called singing, what Mountains would they resemble?—A. The Hymn Allayers.

THE OPERA-GOER'S DIARY.

Marguérite Nordica Slybootzen coming home from church.

Monday, May 26.—Faust. Faust-rate performance as far as Jack and Ned de Reszké are concerned. Madame Nordica is far too knowing a Marguérite. The simple Faust, just beginning life, is evidently no match for this guileless young lady. Being "no match for her" is probably the reason for his not marrying her. Nordica charming vocally, but dramatically there is too much of the Becky Sharp about her, and she is merely in a plot with Martha to let in the rich and spoony Juggins called Faust. New man, Franceschetti, as Valentine, not quite the thing: perhaps nervous seeing Dan Drady in front looking at him. Good house for Whit Monday, though of course The Brilliancies are absent. Choruses excellent. What capital match-boxes the old men in the Old Men's Chorus would make! Good contrast between Mlle. Bauermeister as Martha, and Ned de R. as Mephistopheles.

Tuesday.—Glorious Opera, Les Huguenots; French title with Italian names, such as Valentina, Margherita di Valois, Urbano, &c. First appearance of Monsieur Ybos. Why Boss? Always thought Druriolanus was Boss of this Show. Better change name to Y-not-bos, and the answer will come from