wish you had sitch chairs as these to set in?" Some of the Solgers looks at you jest as if they'd like to say, "What on airth are you staring at?"

I coud ony take jest a glance at the lovely landscapes; but oh, how nice and cool and carm they all looked, after the staring portrates with their flaring cullers.

Robert.

"The Wye" is among Stanford's Tourist Guides for this season. He ought to issue another called "The Wherefore." If he doesn't show cause for the tour, people will simply ask, "Why?" and stop at home.

Mr. Newton will by this time have received quite a refreshing torrent of abuse on his devoted head. No—not torrent—Cass-cade.

REMARKS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNANSWERED.

Lady Godiva. "Yes, Mr. Green, I've been painted by all the most celebrated artists of my time; but not One of them has ever done me justice!"

Mr. Green. "What—not even Sir Joshua?"

MIXED PICKLES; OR, A VERY LATE PARTY.

Scene—A Private Room. Two Eminent Statesmen discovered in consultation. Lists of past and present Members of Parliament, also political Maps of England, scattered about.

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll. Well, we're agreed about the name, then. It's to be the "National Radical Conservative Unionist Liberal Party," eh?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n (doubtfully). Rather long, isn't it? Wouldn't the "Old England Party"—no connection with Dizzy's "Young England" ditto—sound better? And then we're safe to be called "Nationalists," and the word has such disagreeable associations.

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll (cheerfully). Pooh! What's in a name? I've been called lots of nasty ones before now.

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n. Yes, and called them yourself, too, sometimes.

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll (with gay indifference). Now to business. The most important thing we have to decide is—Who are to be the members of the New Party?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n (confidently). Quite so. There'll be a perfect rush to join us. We shall have to "hold the fort" pretty strongly to prevent our being swamped. Mind, no weak compliance with what are called "social influences."

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll. No. And no claim for admission founded on mere relationship to be regarded for a moment.

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n. Hm! I don't know. Family life, you see, is, after all, the basis of the State; and so it's only fair that the State should do something for one's family in return.

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll (diplomatically). All right! Then we'll shelve that subject. Now, as regards the G. O. M. Suppose he found himself quite out in the cold, and wanted to join us, eh?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n (decidedly). Not for a moment. Where would our "Dual Control" be then?

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll. Of course. Shouldn't we let in Hartington? Yes. Well, how about Salisbury?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n. Awkward if Salisbury thinks of becoming member of New Party, eh?

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll (energetically). That's my view entirely. You see, if Salisbury joins, he'll want to be Prime Minister, and then where should I be?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n (surprised). You! The question rather is, where I should be?

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll (hastily). Ah, well; then we'll shelve that subject too for the present. Wouldn't you—er—like—er—to go into the Lords, and lead them?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n. You mean, of course, as Premier?

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll (modestly). I thought—ahem—that my natural qualifications for that post were so obvious that——but, as I said, let's drop the subject for a time. We can come back to it again. Now, what's to be the programme of the Party?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n (with emphasis). There's no doubt about that, I should think. Free Education, of course. Then Jesse insists on allotments and free holdings——

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll (thoughtlessly). Hang Jesse!

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n (with considerable dignity). Hang him? I intend Jesse as our first Chancellor of the Exchequer, or President of Board of Trade, I can tell you.

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll (gaily). All right. I don't mind, if you consent to Wolff being next Governor-General of India. Army and Navy Estimates to be cut down Five Millions, each, eh?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n. Couldn't think of it. We must have a Fleet of some sort, you know.

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll (discontentedly). Then that subject will have to be shelved, too, I suppose. You don't mind, at any rate, a clean sweep being made of the present Admiralty and Ordnance officials, eh?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n (heartily). Not a bit. No broom you can use will be too hard for them. They'll make it a dirty sweep before you've done. Then there's Local Government, of course.

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll. Readjustment of Taxation.

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n. Disestablishm——

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll. Eh? what?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n (calmly). Don't be alarmed. We'll shelve that too, if you like.

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll (relieved). By all means. (With growing uneasiness.) But then, I say, after all, what is our programme? How does it differ from Salisbury's, for instance?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n (ingeniously). Oh, it's far more really Conservative than his, you know.

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll. Yes—(encouraged)—- I see. Of course it is. And how does it differ from Gladstone's?

Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n. Gladstone's? Oh, well—er—it's more really and truly Liberal than his!

Lord R. Ch-rch-ll (ruminating). That sounds all right. The question is, will the country believe it? And if we have to shelve so many questions in order to form our new National Party, shan't we run a risk of being shelved ourselves when the next "wave of progress" sweeps over the Constituencies? [Left ruminating.

WORTH MENTIONING.

"Westgate-On-Sea." Mr. Punch takes off his coat and westgate in this hot weather to correct a slight misquotation. Mr. Punch is represented as saying that none of the greatest Composers ever produced an air to equal "the exhilarating, recuperating air" of Westgate-on-Sea. Now Mr. Punch, when he wrote this (July 2), did not limit this lovely air to one particular spot, but described it as "the exhilarating, recuperating air of the Isle of Thanet." That Westgate is in Thanet is true, but the advertiser poetically uses the part for the whole, thereby omitting Birchington, Margate, Broadstairs, not to mention the inland villages (delightful in the fall of the year), and above all Ramsgate, which is not Mr. Punch's "seaside resort," as is Westgate when he wants a northerly breeze, but Mr. Punch's seaside Residence, where ten-twelfths of the year are delightful, where sky and sea come out in Mediterranean colour,—where it is Nice without its cold-catching dangers, where fruit and vegetables are flavoursome and plentiful, and where there is even more