surplus. Ensure Tommy Atkins six-and-six-pence a day, and you will have every Regiment in the Service thronged with real live Gentlemen. This is what is wanted (so I gather from Lord W.'s article) to make the British Army, if not the most costly, at least the most respectable in the world. Come, Sir, do not make it necessary that you should be reminded a second time of your plain and obvious duty by

A Sanguine and Expectant Private.

Sir,—There can be no doubt in regard to the proper destination of those surplus millions, the fitting disposition of which, I am informed, is involving you in no little perplexity. They seem in a special manner to furnish the legitimate answer to the almost universal cry, now going forth, for "Free Education." Here then is your opportunity. And it is a magnificent one. Your surplus will enable a wise and paternal Government to give not merely education, free of cost, to every child in the three kingdoms, but will supply it with ample means to infuse the very highest culture attainable into the very dregs of the population. Spanish, Italian, German, Russian, French, Chinese, together with riding, dancing, painting in oil colours, hydrostatics, and the elements of Court etiquette, will, henceforth, comprise the curriculum of the veriest gutter-child.

Can you, Sir, contemplate such a brilliant, such a soul-stirring prospect unmoved? That you cannot, and will at once hand over your useful millions for the purpose of carrying into effect the above modest but magnificent scheme, is the firm belief of yours suggestively,

The Latest Teacher of the Young Idea.

A DIAGNOSIS.

"It says 'ere, as your old Boss, Colonel M'Whuskey, has been took ill."—"Ah! so I 'erd!"—"Russian Epidemic?"—"No,—Scotch."

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

Book Markers.

"Bring me my Scotch Dictionary!" cried the Baron. "Alas, my Lord!" was the answer of the faithful servitor, "there is none such here." "I'fakins!" quoth the Baron, "then will I buckle to and read A Window in Thrums without it, even though I break all my teeth and nigh choke myself, as indeed, I have well-nigh done in my gallant attempt to master the first two chapters." So I, the Baron, being convalescent and having a few hours to spare, lay me down and read, and read, and read, and stumbled over the Scotch words and phrases, until I hit on the plan of reading it aloud to two or three other convalescents; just to see how they would like it. And as I read aloud, this book,—which on account of its apparent difficulty, and by reason of my education having been neglected, "lang syne," in respect to the Scotch language, an intimate knowledge of which I have not yet acquired "the noo,"—it gained my affection gradually, steadily, and increasingly. Though I could not have translated individual words and phrases, yet I instinctively understood them, and was delighted with the homely simplicity of the style, the keen observation, the shrewd wit, and the gentle pathos of A Window in Thrums. The Baron de Book-Worms is grateful to Mr. J. M. Barrie; and when an opportunity is offered him, he is seriously thinking of re-reading some of the Scotchiest of Sir Walter Scott's Novels, and having a "Nicht or twa wi' Robbie Burns."

I await the Reminiscences of Mr. Montagu Williams, Q.C. and P.M., with considerable interest.

Mr. Keith Fleming's romance, Can such Things be? or, the Weird of the Beresfords,—no relation to Lord Charles of that ilk,—starts, and will make the reader start too, with a very creepy idea. The story would have been a genuine weird and eerie one but for the continual twaddling interruptions about "spookikal" research and metaphysical problems, which, however, the experienced skipper, who knows the chart, can easily avoid after the first two or three bumps, and even the inexperienced reader will be able, after an hour or two, to hop from point to point like a robin from twig to twig. But skipping and hopping is wearying, and the story is too long, and so we become familiar with the ghost, and we all know what the fatal consequence of familiarity is. The repetitions of the Spook's appearance are monotonous. Had The Weird been condensed like milk in tins, or essenced like Liebig, and been presented to the public as a story in two numbers of Blackwood (always such an appropriate title for a Magazine full of mysterious stories,—Black Wood so like Black Forest) or Macmillan, or Cornhill (where, somehow, a ghost-story always reads uncommonly well), this romance would have created a great sensation. As it is, it doesn't, at least not much. Baron de Book-worms.

MR PUNCHS MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS

Our present Drama (No. VI.) represents an attempt to illustrate upon the Music-hall Stage the eternal truth that race will tell in the long run, despite—but, on second thoughts, it does not quite prove that, though it certainly shows the unerring accuracy of parental—at least, that is not exactly its tendency, either; and the fact is that Mr. Punch is more than a little mixed himself as to the precise theory which it is designed to enforce. He hopes, however, that, as a realistic study of Patrician life and manners, it will possess charms for a democratic audience.

COMING OF AGE

Dramatis Personæ.

The Earl of Burntalmond.

The Countess of Burntalmond (his wife).

Robert Henry Viscount Bullsaye (their son and heir).

The Lady Rose Caramel (niece to the Earl).

Horehound.                 } (Travelling as "The Celebrated Combination
Mrs. Horehound.         } Korffdropp Troupe," in their refined and
Coltsfoot Horehound.  } elegant Drawing-room Entertainment.)

Tenantry.

Scene—The Great Quadrangle of Hardbake Castle; banners, mottoes, decorations, &c. On the steps, R., the Earl, supported by his wife, son, and niece, is discovered in the act of concluding a speech to six tenantry, who display all the enthusiasm that is reasonably to be expected at ninepence a night.

The Earl (patting Lord Bullsaye's shoulder). I might say more, Gentlemen, in praise of my dear son, Lord Bullsaye, here—I might dwell on his extreme sweetness, his strongly marked character, the variety of his tastes, and the singular attraction he has for children of all ages—but I forbear. I will merely announce that on this day—the day he has