of the future and yet could tell none of its secrets.

"But couldn't it? Couldn't I wrest one at least from it?—that was what worried me.

"As I pondered, a newspaper boy passed me bearing the placard 'Selections for Lingfield,' and in a flash I bought one. My watch knew who had won! How could I extract that information from it?"

Jack paused.

"Good heavens," I interpolated, "what an extraordinary situation!"

"You may well say so," he said. "You see, if only I could share its knowledge, I should be rich for life; for it was now only a quarter to eleven, and the first race was not till one-fifty, and there was plenty of time to bet.

"But——

"I continued on my way deep in thought," Jack went on, "when whom should I meet but Lisburne? Lisburne is the most ingenious man I know.

"'Come and advise me,' I said, and led him to a quiet corner.

"'It's jolly interesting,' he remarked, when I had finished, 'but of course it's black arts, you know, and we've lost the key nowadays. Still we must try.'

"We discussed the thing every way, in vain.

"Then suddenly he said, 'Look here, this watch represents to-morrow. That means it is through the watch that we must work. Here, let's get to-day's Mail and read it through the watch-glass and see if there's any difference?'

"We got it and did so.

"Lisburne removed the glass, found the racing news and read them through it. 'Good heavens!' he said, and turned white. 'Here, read this with your naked eye,' he said, pushing the paper before me.

"I read 'Saturday's racing results: 1.30, Midas 1, Blair Hampton 2, Chessington 3,' and so on. 'Prices, Midas 6-4,' etc.

"'Those are Saturday's results,' he said, shaking with excitement. 'But now read them through the watch-glass.'

"I did so, and they immediately changed to Monday's results. I was reading to-morrow's paper!

"'Look at the prices,' he cried.

"'The prices! I hastily ran through them. They were splendid. "Captain Farrell 10-1, Woodpark 10-1, Flitting Light 4-1." And these horses, remember,' he said, 'are going to run this afternoon!'

"'What's the next thing to be done?' I gasped.

"'The bookies,' he replied.

"'I suppose they're fair game,' I said.

"'Of course,' he replied. 'The very fairest. But that's nothing to do with you, anyhow. You're in possession of magic and must employ it. They are the natural medium. How much can you muster?'

"'I'd risk anything I could scrape up,' I said. 'Say £750. And you?'

"'Oh, I'm broke,' he replied. 'How many bookies do you know?'

"'Three,' I said.

"'Well,' he replied, 'I know three more, and we can find men who know others, and who will bet for us. Because we must plant this out warily, you know, or they'll be suspicious.'

"'Will you take it in hand,' I asked, 'leaving me £150 for my own commissioners?'

"'Of course,' he said, 'if you'll give me ten per cent.;' and having copied out all the longer-priced winners through the watch-glass he hurried off, promising to meet me at lunch.

"How to get through the intervening time was now the question. First I went to the telegraph office, and then to the barber's to have my hair cut. Forcibly to be kept in a chair was what I needed. The hair-cut took only half-an-hour; so I was shaved; then I was shampooed; then I was massaged; then I was manicured. I should have been pedicured, but the clock mercifully said lunch-time.

"Lisburne was there in a state of fever. He had distributed the £600 among fourteen different commission agents.

"'Now we can have lunch,' he said, 'with easy minds.'

"Easy!

"'But suppose the whole thing is a fizzle,' I said. 'We've been far too impetuous. Impulse was always my ruin.'

"'Oh no,' he said.

"'But if it's a fizzle,' I said, 'what about my £750?'

"'It won't be,' he replied. 'It's magic. Let's order something to eat.'

"He ate; that is the advantage of being on ten per cent. commission. I couldn't."

Jack paused.

"Go on," I said. "Did the horses win?"

"Every one," he replied.

"At those prices?"

"Yes."

"Then you're frightfully rich?"

"No," he said.

"Why ever not? Surely the bookies haven't refused to pay?"

"Oh no."

"Then why aren't you rich?"

"Because I did the usual silly thing—I woke up."

"The Cafe Chantant.

To the Editor of 'The Evening Post.'

Sir,—In writing on the 4th February I omitted from the lists of names of two of our kind helpers at the Café Chantant, Messrs. Le Cheminant and the Victoria Dairy. Will you kindly allow me to do so now. Yours faithfully, M. P. pipon."

"The Evening Post," Jersey.

Apparently the Editor wouldn't!

"Yesterday a metal-gilt chandelier, 5ft. high, with branches for twenty-five lights, and numerous cut-glass pendants, fell at the one bid of half a guinea. The purchaser, who was sitting under it, seemed to be the most surprised person in the room."

Daily Telegraph.

If it fell on his head, we fear he must have been pained as well as surprised.

"N.B.—Welsh rarebit is most nourishing, and, with a plate of soap, makes an excellent dinner." Bombay Gazette.

The soap, however nourishing, should be disguised; otherwise your guests will misunderstand you.

Stewardess. "We are just nearing the harbour, Madam. Would you like some hot water?"

Passenger (faintly). "It doesn't matter, thank you; I'm only going to relations."

LETTERS AND LIFE.

Preparations are already on foot for the great banquet to be given in honour of the famous Russian novelist, Dr. Ladislas Plovskin, who is to visit England in July. A representative committee has been formed, which includes, amongst others, Sir Gilbert Parker, Mr. Charles Garvice, Mr. Silas Hocking, Mr. C. K. Shorter, Lord Dunsany, Mr. James Douglas and Mr. Edmund Gosse, who will take the chair at the banquet. There is a peculiar appropriateness in this, for it was Mr. Gosse who, some ten years ago, first called attention to Plovskin in one of his masterly studies. Since then, Plovskin has gained the Nobel Prize and become the object of a special cult which has centres from Tomsk to Seattle, and from Popocatapetl to Oshkosh.

The address which will be presented to the great Muscovite fictionist has been written by Mr. James Douglas, and is a masterpiece of sensitive and discriminating eulogy. Thus in one passage Mr. Douglas says, "while preserving your own individuality with miraculous independence, you have summed up in your work all the inchoate influences to be found in Homer, Dante, Shakspeare, Voltaire and Verlaine, and carried them to a pitch of divine effulgence only to be equalled in the godlike work of our marvellous Masefield."

Dr. Plovskin is no stranger to England, for he was an intimate friend of the late Edward Lear, who alludes to him under the name of Ploffskin in one of his touching lyrics, and, as we have seen, he owes almost everything to the generous appreciation of Mr. Gosse, to whom he has dedicated his last