cost us hours to arrange, speedily got soaked, and had to be taken down. Then, of course, the sun came out again, and for a time the heat was intense. In fact, one lady, who would eat her lunch on the roof, grew quite faint, and had to be helped down to KITTY'S husband's room. After lunch, we all ventured out in various small craft, and again I was unlucky in my waterman. I was sure he had never punted before, and it proved to be so; for when I asked him if he had had much practice this season, he answered, the while he wrung the water from his garments, that "he'd only seen it done, and it looked easy." We managed, however, by dint of banging on to other people's boats, to get along very well, until an ill-judged "shove" sent us right out into the course, just as the race of the day was coming along. I am not quite clear as to what then took place; only I know that everything was "fouled." KITTY'S husband, who had a bet on, was furious, and glared at me for the rest of the day—a condition of things I pretended not to see. That night we had a rat-hunt on board, but we lost the animal, as LUCY diverted our attention by falling into the river. It was most inconvenient of her, as she wetted our mutual sleeping apartment dreadfully.

The second day was almost a replica of the first, varied only by KITTY'S husband fancying he had a sunstroke. The third and last day was, however, not the success we could have wished. During the night the weather turned hot, and the food turned—well, not good,—and next morning the obligatory sacrifice to Father Thames was appalling. Then when the necessary viands did not arrive from London, I in my capacity of "professional guest," and of being always ready for any emergency, volunteered to forage in Henley town. Oh! that expedition. I fought at the fishmonger's, battled at the butcher's and baker's, grovelled at the grocer's, and finally ended by committing a theft at the butterman's. The number of our visitors was large, and was much augmented by friends' friends, who came in battalions. It may have been the extra weight on board, or it may be that the hunted rat had designed a base revenge, but during lunch, and just as KITTY'S husband was beginning to be genial, an odd idea seized me that the river was rising. Yes! And the bank behind us was rising too. And gracious! the water was flowing over the little promenade place, and running about the floor of the saloon; and then the Goldfields gave a lurch and a shiver, and settled down in the mud, with a foot-and-a-half of dirty water downstairs, and nothing but the roof left us to perch upon.

How we ever recovered our belongings I don't know. All I remember is, being taken to the station in an old green wherry, and coming back to town seventeen in a second-class carriage. My last view of the wreck embraced KITTY, propped up against the railing of the roof, and making tea on a table, which looked more like tipping over than standing straight. KITTY'S husband was muttering to himself as he handed round the cups; and, as I moved off through the crush of boats, I fancied I caught the word "JONAH." Of course I may have been mistaken, as my name is not that, but

THE ODD GIRL OUT.

ODE TO MONEY.

(By a Poptimist.)

"BETTER LATE THAN NEVER!"

(An Open Letter to Somebody.)

DEAR NOBLE CORRESPONDENT TO THE TIMES,—We see that you are doing your best to defend the proposed destruction of the Lincoln's Inn Gateway in Chancery Lane. In the course of your exertions, you have been not too civil to several worthy persons, and inaccurate in your description of the Society of Antiquaries. Now, do take our advice. We know you were a clever "Silk" when you practised at the Bar, and we have heard that your forefathers (for a generation or so) were excellent hands at Banking; but, in the name of Lombard Street, do let Archæology alone!

With the best of wishes,

Yours sincerely,

(Signed) EVERYBODY.

CHANCE FOR BUYERS.—Last week, among the Tuesday's arrangements in the Daily Telegraph, was announced:—"Bath Horse Show." Did this include "Bath Towel-Horse Show?" Fine chance for sporting Mr. BLUNDEL MAPLE. M.P., as a Towel-Horse dealer. "Great Towel-Horse Show in Tottenham Court Road!" The sale of yearlings and the pedigrees would be interesting.

LATEST INTELLIGENCE.

"BY THE WAY, WHERE IS THAT PLACE, HELIGOLAND, THEY'RE ALL TALKING SO MUCH ABOUT?"

"OH—DON'T YOU KNOW, DEAR? IT'S ONE OF THE PLACES LATELY DISCOVERED BY MR. STANLEY!"

THE TOMATO-CURE FOR DYSPEPSIA.