Say my "candid friends," as they watch my face,

"O.I.C.U.R.M.T., Sir!"

"A VOLUNTARY CONTRIBUTION."

Philistine Wife. "YOUR PAPER ISN'T AT ALL AMUSING JUST NOW. BUT THERE, I MUST CONFESS IT IS NOT EASY TO BE EITHER FUNNY OR WITTY EVERY WEEK."

Journalist (much worried). "NO, MY DEAR, MUCH EASIER TO BE ALWAYS DULL AND PROSAIC EVERY EVENING."

[He was about to add a personal illustration, but as, fortunately, he didn't, the subject dropped.]

THE CROSS-EXAMINER'S VADE MECUM.

Question. Have you a right to ask any question in Court?

Answer. Certainly, and the questioning is left to my discretion.

Ques. What do you understand by discretion?

Ans. An unknown quality defined occasionally by the Press and the Public.

Ques. Is the definition invariably the same?

Ans. No, for it depends upon the exigencies of the Press and the frivolity and fickleness of the Public.

Ques. Were you to refrain from questioning a Witness anent his antecedents, and subsequently those antecedents becoming known, his evidence were to lose the credence of the papers, what would be said of you?

Ans. That I had neglected my duty.

Ques. Were you to question a Witness on his past, and, by an interruption of the trial, that Witness's evidence were consequently to become superfluous, what would then be said of you?

Ans. That I had exceeded my duty.

Ques. Is it an easy matter to reconcile the interests of your clients with the requirements of Public Opinion.

Ans. It is a most difficult arrangement, the more especially as Public Opinion is usually composed of the joint ideas of hundreds of people who know as much about law as does a bed-post.

Ques. In the eyes of Public Opinion, whose commendation is the most questionable?

Ans. The commendation of a Judge, because it stands to reason (according to popular ideas) that a man who knows his subject thoroughly must be unable to come to any definite decision as to its merits.

Ques. And in the eyes of the same authority, whose commendation is the most valuable?

Ans. In the eyes of Public Opinion the most valuable commendation would come from a man who is absolutely ignorant of everything connected with a Counsel's practice, but who can amply supply this possible deficiency by writing a letter to the papers and signing himself "FAIR PLAY."

Ques. Is there any remedy for setting right any misconception that may have occurred as to the rights and wrongs of cross-examiners?

Ans. Yes, the Public might learn what the business of a cross-examiner really is.

Ques. I see, and having done this, can you recommend anything further?

Ans. Having learned a cross-examiner's business, the Public might then have time to attend—to its own!

THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.

No. XXIII.

SCENE—The Lower Hall of the Scuola di San Rocco, Venice. British Tourists discovered studying the Tintorets on the walk and ceiling by the aid of RUSKIN, HARE, and BÆDEKER, from which they read aloud, instructively, to one another. Miss PRENDERGAST has brought "The Stones of Venice" for the benefit of her brother and PODBURY. Long self-repression has reduced PODBURY to that unpleasantly hysterical condition known as "a fit of the giggles," which, however, has hitherto escaped detection.

"A Solemn Gentleman, with a troublesome cough, reading aloud to his Wife."

Miss P. (standing opposite "The Flight into Egypt" reading). "One of the principal figures here is the Donkey." Where is Mr. PODBURY? (To P., who reappears, humbly proffering a tin focussing-case.) Thanks, but you need not have troubled! "The Donkey ... um—um—never seen—um—um—any of the nobler animals so sublime as this quiet head of the domestic ass"—(here BOB digs PODBURY in the ribs, behind Miss P.'s back)—"chiefly owing to the grand motion in the nostril, and writhing in the ears." (A spasmodic choke from PODBURY.) May I ask what you find so amusing?

Podb. (crimson). I—I beg your pardon—I don't know what I was laughing at exactly. (Aside to BOB.) Will you shut up, confound you!

A Stout Lady, close by (reading from HARE). "The whole symmetry of it depending on a narrow line of light." (Dubiously, to her Daughter.) I don't quite—oh yes, I do now—that's it—where my sunshade is—"the edge of a carpenter's square, which connects those unused tools" ... h'm—can you make out the "unused tools," ETHEL? I can't.... But he says—"The Ruined House is the Jewish Dispensation." Now I should