later at Mayor of Shadwell's banquet, and so on to Poplar and Whitechapel, and as many as he can crowd in. Other Ministers do the same. Still, not enough Cabinet Councillors to go round, and to-night I am horrified to find that the assistant Under-Secretary to the deputy Labour Commissioner had been chosen to reply to the toast of the health of the Ministry at my banquet! Ichabod, indeed! [By the way, what a good name for a new Lord Mayor, "Ichabod," say, if knighted, "Sir Thomas Ichabod." Air to be played by band on his entering Guildhall, "Ichabody meet a body." But alas! these are dreams! Ichabod!] Yet, as the only building in which the Mayor of Cripplegate Without can entertain his guest is the fourth floor of an unused warehouse, perhaps we really don't deserve a higher official. Still, one can't help regretting that the City, in its natural dread of the so-called "Unification of London," persuaded the Government to agree to this sort of "Punification of London."

Toast for the next "Queensland Meat" Banquet.—"The Army, the Gravy, and the Preserved Forces!"

THE MAN FROM BLANKLEY'S.

A Story in Scenes.

Scene V.—The Dining-room; walls distempered chocolate; gaselier with opal-tinted globes; two cast-iron Cavaliers holding gas-lamps on the mantel-piece. Oil-portrait, enlarged from photograph, of Mrs. Tidmarsh, over side-board; on other walls, engravings—"Belshazzar's Feast," "The Wall of Wailing at Jerusalem," and Doré's "Christian Martyrs." The guests have just sat down; Lord Strathsporran is placed between Miss Seaton and his hostess, and opposite Mr. Gilwattle.

Lord Strath. (to himself). Deuced quaint-looking people—wish they wouldn't all eat their soup at me! Why can't somebody say something? Wonder who's the Lady in black, all over big silver tears—like a foreign funeral. Don't feel equal to talking to Marjory again till I've had some Sherry. (After sipping it.) Wormwood, by Jove! Champagne will probably be syrup—touch old Gilwattle up if he isn't careful—ah, he jibs at the Sherry!

Uncle Gab. Where the dickens did Monty get this stuff, Maria? Most 'strordinary bitter taste!

Mrs. Tid. (to herself, in an agony). I knew that bottle of Gwennie's Quinine Wine had got down into the cellar somehow! (Aloud.) Don't drink it, Uncle, please, if it isn't quite what you like!

Uncle Gab. I'll take his Lordship's opinion. What do you think of this Sherry, my Lord? Don't you find it rather—eh?

Lord Strath. (observing his hostess frown at him imperiously). Oh, excellent, Sir—very—er—mellow and agreeable!

Uncle Gab. Ha—yes—now your Lordship mentions it, there's a sort of nuttiness about it.

[He empties his glass.

Lord Strath. (to himself). There is—a rotten-nuttiness! I'm hanged if he hasn't bolted it! Wonderful old Johnny!

Mrs. Tid. (to him, in an under-tone). You said quite the right thing!

Lord Strath. (ambiguously). Oh, not at all!

[Turbot and lobster-sauce are taken round, and conversation becomes general.

Conversational Scraps. Assure you if I touch the smallest particle of lobster it instantly flies to my.... Yes, alive. A dear friend of mine positively had to leave her lodgings at the seaside—she was so disturbed by the screams of the lobsters being boiled in the back-kitchen.... I was reading only the other day that oysters' hearts continue to beat down to the very moment they are being assimilated.... What they must suffer, poor dears! Couldn't there be a law that they should only be eaten under chloroform, or something?... I never get tired of turbot—cod, now, I don't care for, and salmon I like—but I can't digest—why, is more than I can tell you.—(&c.)

"Don't make a fuss—you can take one glass, as he wishes it."

Miss Seaton. (to herself.) To see Douglas here a—a paid parasite—and actually seeming to enjoy his food—it's like some dreadful nightmare—I can't believe it! But I'm glad he hasn't the face to speak to me!

Lord Strath. (to Seakale offering Hock.) If you please. (To himself, after tasting.) Why, it's quite decent! I begin to feel up to having this out with Marjory. (Aloud.) Miss Seaton, isn't it rather ridiculous for two such old friends as we are to sit through dinner in deadly silence? Can't you bring yourself to talk to me? we shan't be overheard. You might tell me why you think me such a ruffian—it would start us, at any rate!

Miss Seaton. I don't want to be started—and if you really don't know why I hate your coming here in this way, Lord Strathsporran, it's useless to explain!

Lord Strath. Oh, we got as far as that upstairs, didn't we? And I may be very dense, but for the life of me I can't see yet why I shouldn't have come! Of course, I didn't know I was in for this exactly, but, to tell you the truth, I'm by way of being here on business, and I didn't care much whether they were cheery or not, so long as I got what I came for, don't you know!

Miss Seaton. Of course, that is the main thing in your eyes—but I didn't think you would confess it!

Lord Strath. Why, you know how keen I used to be about my Egyptian work—you remember the book on Hieroglyphs I always meant to write? I'm getting on with it, though of course my time's a good deal taken up just now. And, whether I get anything out of these people or not, I've met you again, Marjory—I don't mind anything else!

Miss Seaton. Don't remind me of—of what you used to be, and—and you are not to call me Marjory any more. We have met—and I only hope and pray we may never meet again. Please don't talk any more!

Lord Strath. (to himself.) That's a facer! I wonder if Marjory's quite—is this the effect of that infernal influenza?

Mrs. Tid. (to him in an under-tone). You and Miss Seaton appear to be on very familiar terms. I really feel it my duty to ask you when and how you made the acquaintance of my daughter's governess.

Lord Strath. (to himself). The governess! That explains a lot. Poor little Marjory! (Aloud.) Really? I congratulate you. I had the honour of knowing Miss Seaton in Scotland a year or two ago, and this is the first time we have met since.

Mrs. Tid. Indeed? That is so far satisfactory. I hope you will understand that, so long as Miss Seaton is in my employment, I cannot allow her to—er—continue your acquaintanceship—it is not as if you were in a position——

Lord Strath. (with