imagined my children at Eton, my wife in a carriage and pair, my address in Grosvenor Place. All I had to do to secure these tardily-attained luxuries was to protect my clients by my careful attention to their interests. The moment at length arrived. I rose to cross-examine.

"And now, Sir," I said; feeling that I was master of the situation, and that my voice had a magnificent resonance, which was striking terror into the heart of the witness before me, I am going to put a few questions to you!"

"I beg pardon," said the Chairman, promptly—"you will do nothing of the sort. You were not present during the whole of the witness's examination-in-chief, and so we decline to hear you!"

I could have wept! The momentary search for sandwiches and sherry had ruined me! Eton and Grosvenor Place vanished together (in the carriage and pair) for ever!

Pump-Handle Court. (Signed) A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR.

OLLENDORFF IN LONDON;

OR, THE COCKNEY'S FAMILIAR PHRASE-BOOK.

No. I.—AT THE ESTATE AGENT'S.

Have you some nice houses to let furnished?—Here is our Catalogue, Sir.—I perceive that most of these are Queen Anne houses; "sanitation perfect;" where is the satisfactory explanation of the fine advertisement?—It is in Spain with the other castles (idiom).—What is "Queen Anne"?—Victoria comes first, Elizabeth second, but Queen Anne is (the) last.—Is then sanitation also something?—It is the little game of the big builder; it is all your (my, his, her,) eyes.—Can we have some nice furniture?—You can have (the furniture of) Chippendale, Sheraton, McAdam, or Louis-Quinze.—It is too dear.—No, Sir; my brother bought it yesterday of the clever carpenter.—I was done by you or by your brother; I require a room for my mother-in-law (neuter).—The good mother-in-law sleeps in the chamber of boxes (box-room), but the evil mother-in-law prefers the best bed-room.—How many persons are you?—We are sixteen.—You are, indeed, suited, Sir; it is an eight-roomed house.—Is not the noble drawing-room smaller than we have a mind to?—On the contrary, it is very lofty. There is room near the chandelier.—Where is the "moderate-sized garden"?—It is on the leads with the broken flower-pots, the capital smuts, and the industrious cats (masculine or feminine).—Is it then much larger than a postage-stamp?—Decidedly not, Sir. It is also nearly as sticky. Much rain produces weeds.—Where are "the bath-rooms"? I only perceived a watering-pot.—Any rooms in which you put baths, are bath-rooms.—What is then the price?—The exorbitant client of the first-class agent demands four hundred guineas for the season.—It is too much.—He would take less in some minutes; but my commission will rest the same.—Here are "Commanding mansions," "Bijou maisonettes," and "Desirable residences."—It is not difficult; the mansion that has a back-staircase is commanding, the "Bijou" is for the newly-married, or the actress, but the "Desirable residence" is what you desire.—What is then the "square hall"?—It is neither round nor oblong; therefore it is square. It is likewise in a square.—Is it geometrically the same as the Bridge of Asses?—I do not know. Sir.—Where is the capital accommodation for the poor servants?—It resembles the dark kennel of the sad dog.—What are dilapidations and electric light?—The first, Sir, is what you break; the second is what breaks you.—If I were to let my own house, and then to myself take it, would it be on the same terms?—No, the buyer is usually sold, but the seller loves the first of April.—If another agent were to let my house, would you, likewise, expect commission?—Why not? I am the best friend of the little lawyer with the long nose.—I was inquiring of you about flats.—It were better that you should be sharp, Sir.—I was not born yesterday (proverb.)—Right (adjective) you are, Sir; we will write (verb) to you till you take or let something, not alone I, but also some others; if you refuse me something, I will be very discontented.—Have you ever let well alone? (idiom).—We have let many things alone (bare), but you must, notwithstanding, pay for the fixtures.—I think I will be going.—Here are pens, paper, and a form of an attorney.—No, I thank you.—We shall not charge for this interview, but one must live.—I do not see the necessity (v. Anecdotes in Appendix).—The Necessity is the mother of the inventory.—Who is the Caretaker?—She is the great-grandmother of the superannuated laundress. She becomes sleepy during the Winter. Shall we send her to your house?—Not if I know it (expletive). Receive the assurance (insurance) of my highest consideration. By the bye (interjection), which is the topmost storey?—The topmost story is the last thing you have heard me mention. I salute you, Sir.

TAKEN UPON TRUST.

(A Fair-and-Unfairy Story, Founded upon a Magic Act.)

Once upon a time there existed two fatherless and motherless orphans, who were just old enough to work for their living. Unfortunately they did not know how to dig, were too proud to beg, and had conscientious scruples that prevented them from stealing. Besides, one of the two was a girl; and there were not many openings for her. And matters would have gone very hard with them, indeed, had not a distant, but benevolent relative, kindly died and left them as a legacy a sum of money, of which they were to have the interest until they attained their majority, when it was to be divided equally between them. They were overjoyed, and rushed to the executor, who happened to be a lawyer.

"Yes," said the man of costs, "I am indeed charged with the execution of the trust, and for your own sakes I hope you will not give me much trouble, as I shall, under the conditions of the will, have to make you pay for it."

And after he had entered their visit (which he called an attendance) in his diary, to be subsequently copied into a ledger, he bowed them out.

So the two orphans disappeared a little crestfallen; and they soon discovered that their legacy had the faculty of diminishing. The lawyer immediately transferred the money, which was invested in what he called "second-rate securities," into Consols, and this cost something, and considerably diminished their income. When the two orphans remonstrated, the lawyer said, that as he made scarcely more than out-of-pocket expenses in the matter, he did not feel justified in incurring the slightest risk.

"I am only a simple girl," murmured one of the orphans, with a nervous blush; "but does not a recent statute give trustees power to invest the funds of their cestui que trusts in securities yielding a larger return than 2¾ Goschens?"

"Do not bandy words with me, Miss," replied the lawyer, angrily; "I shall act as I please, and if you or I ask for the estate to be administered, it will cost you a pretty penny."

"Which no doubt will find its way into your pocket," returned the maiden, simply. "But surely a 4½ mortgage on real property can be obtained without risk, if you do not act contrary to the provisions of the Trustee Relief Act?"

But the lawyer was very angry, and threatened her that if she made any further complaint he would appeal to the Chancery Division of the High Court of Justice, which would mean, probably, the absorption of the entire estate in a gigantic bill of costs.

So, with a sigh, the maiden and her brother retired. That night, as she was sitting over the fire, before retiring to rest, she had a dream, when a nice-looking old gentleman appeared before her, and asked her