admirable clerk, PORTINGTON, who, as a rule, is no great respecter of persons, always talks of BANDSMAN with bated breath, and rushes forward to open the outer door when the great man prepares to leave the Chambers. It is necessary to explain this, and further to add, that with the good-fellowship habitual to men occupying the same Chambers, by an unwritten law we are permitted to use one another's rooms in the absence of their proper proprietors. My own particular room is popularly supposed by those of my unprofessional friends who occasionally honour me with a visit, to be the cupboard, in which I keep my wig and gown, when not arguing abstruse points of law with the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, the MASTER of the ROLLS, and other learned personages. From this it will be seen that BANDSMAN'S apartment is far more imposing than my own.

Some little while ago I had reason to believe that I might receive certain Vacation business from a Solicitor who had been kind enough to say that he considered himself under an obligation to me (I had bailed him out when he had been arrested at two o'clock in the morning while attempting to let himself in with a corkscrew, which it appears he had mistaken for his own latch-key), and consequently I had warned PORTINGTON that should any client ask for me it would be as well if he showed him into the rooms of my co-chamberman, Mr. BANDSMAN.

"He is rather eccentric," I had said, on bidding my excellent and admirable Clerk adieu, "and may possibly be a little excited when he calls; so merely show him in, and do not disturb him if he goes to sleep." PORTINGTON bowed, and said that he quite understood the situation. On the following morning as I was entering my Chambers I was met by an American acquaintance, for whom I have a very deep respect, but who is not entirely accustomed to the staid ways of what he calls this "played-out old country." He button-holed me, and told me that he had been looking out for the London friend of a friend of his in the States. He could not find the said London friend, so now was hunting for the said friend's children.

"My friend's friend's name was SMITH,-ROBERT SMITH," he observed. "He was living in 1824. That is so. I have advertised for his descendants, if any. If you hear from any of them, why just you let me know."

"My dear fellow," I replied, "I shall be only too delighted if I can be of any service to you. But surely it's a little vague

66

"Not at all! A card will do anything in the States. Why not here ? I have put your name and address to the advertisement. Yes, Sirree. So if you hear from any of them, why just you write to Poste Restante, Rome,' where I am due the day after to-morrow. Good-bye!"

And before I could say anything in response, he had seized my hand, wrung it heartily, hastily jumped into a hansom cab, and was being driven at a gallop towards the Victoria Railway Station. A little flurried by this rather unexpected encounter, I paused a few moments to regain my composure, and then entered my Chambers.

"He's come, Sir," said PORTINGTON, as I walked in, " and I have shown him into Mr. BANDSMAN's room. He's rather a rum 'un, Sir; but I suppose it is all right. But you won't be long, I hope, Sir, as Mr. BANDSMAN'S Clerk tells me that Mr. BANDSMAN is coming up to town at two o'clock, and will want to use his room for several consultations that can't wait until the end of the Vacation."

66

'Oh, certainly, PORTINGTON," I replied. 'No doubt I shall not require the room for more than half an hour." Upon this I assumed my best manner (I usually adopt a cheery and genial air when dealing with clients-it puts them at their ease), and entered the apartment in which my anticipated acquaintance was seated, and greeted him with great cordiality.

'Delighted to see you, my dear Sir," I exclaimed-and then I stopped. To my astonishment I found, instead of my expected visitor a rough-looking person in a velveteen coat and a fur cap, with a newspaper in his right hand, and a thick short stick in the other.

"Ax your parding, Guvnor," said this person, with rather a threatening air, "but I've come about this 'ere advertisement." He handed me the newspaper with a marked passage in the second column of the front page. "You are BRIEFLESS, ain't you?" he asked, roughly. I nodded, and glanced at the marked passage. To my horror I found it was a request that all persons claiming relationship with a ROBERT SMITH, living in 1820, should call upon me at my Chambers, when they "would hear of something to their advantage." "Now," said the person, looking at his stick, "I ain't going for to stand no nonsense. I'ave wasted 'arf a day 'ere, 'cos I turned up before the doors was opened. BOB SMITH was my uncle. What's the summut I'm going for to 'ear to my advantage?

I really did not know what to say or do. I could not help feeling greatly annoyed at my American acquaintance's thoughtless impetuosity.

"So you are old BOB SMITH'S descendant, are you, my worthy fellow?" I exclaimed, with a heartiness I was far from feeling. "None of your gammon," he replied, roughly; "but stump up

now you knows my rights. Cos why--if you don't stump up it won't
be pleasant for you."
Greatly upset by his threatening demeanour, I was about to
remonstrate, when PORTINGTON ushered in two more rough-looking
persons and three muscular females. The five additions to our little
circle produced as many marked newspapers, and immediately called
my attention to what they described as their "rights."
'My worthy people," I began, "I fear there must be some mis-
take."

They anathematised the suggestion, and all six of them advanced towards me with a demeanour that made me devoutly wish that we had included a police-constable on the strength of our clerical establishment. I saw that I must temporise.

"My good friends, I was a little unprepared for your visit, but if you will wait here a few minutes, I think I can satisfy you. And now I will retire."

The rough-looking men were inclined to bar my exit, but the three females, with the observation "that anyone could see as I was a gentleman as meant to be'ave as a gentleman," suggested that I should be allowed to go on the understanding that I returned in five minutes with the "summut" I had presumedly promised to give them. The men accorded a grudging consent, and I walked away. Once outside, with a hurried remark to PORTINGTON that I might not return until the commencement of Term, I left my Chambers. Later in the day I passed Pumphandle Court, and from a loud altercation I heard going on within (in which I distinctly recognised the voice of BANDSMAN raised in angry expostulation), I much fear that my unwelcome visitors (who seemed to be still in possession), had seriously interfered with the serenity that usually is the characteristic of my eminent co-Chamberman's important consultations.

IS SMOKING A FAILURE ?

MEDICUS, dating from the Middlesex Hospital, that smoking Turkish SIR,-I have not the least doubt that the discovery made by and Egyptian cigarettes is most injurious to health, is absolutely

I

ခ

Beer or Bier-The Smoker's

Mixture.

correct. I have often wondered why it is
that I feel so uncommonly queer after
dinner; now at last the mystery is ex-
plained. It is all due to the Wady
Halfa Paragons" that I have been in the
habit of smoking, but which I shall now
abjure in favour of a pipe and some extra
strong Virginia shag. I assure you that
often and often I have felt just as if my
throat were on fire, and have habitually
gone to bed in my boots, awaking the next
morning with a perfectly splitting head-
ache. Yet I have been most moderate in

eating, and have steadily limited my drinking to two bottles of
Tokay and half a bottle of Scotch whiskey per evening, which surely
nobody can call an excessive supply. Some ridiculous friends have
insisted that I am suffering from alcoholic poisoning, and have induced
me to try this retreat, kept-I fancy-by a medical chum of their own;
but you can judge how mistaken the treatment here is when I say that
a day, while the
I am limited to two glasses of weak "Vin Ordinaire"
presiding physician does not care in the least how many noxious and
poisonous cigarettes I indulge in. Need I say that, after these
intention to leave this retreat "beat a retreat," I may perhaps
awful revelations of MEDICUS, I have given a weekly notice of my
call it and resume my old modes of life, minus my old penchant for
cigarettes, but plus pipes and cigars, ad lib.?
Yours, eye-openedly,
A TOPER.

The Home for Inebriates, Lostwittles, Cornwall.

what it is to have a couple of Doctors exploring your larynx for three
SIR,-my mucous membrane is in an awful condition! Do you know
hours, as if it were a part of the Dark Continent? I do. They say
that my laryngeal regions-by which I think they mean my throat,
only a natural delicacy prevents them putting it so plainly-affords
a most interesting study, because in all their experience they have
after MEDICUS's disclosures as to the horrible "unclassified alkaloid
never seen anything look half so bad! This is comforting to me. Now,
poison" in Egyptian cigarettes, I cannot have a doubt where my ill-
ness has come from. Where it will go to, time and my Doctors will
have to decide between them. And then for MEDICUS calmly to con-
fess that the alkaloid poison is "unclassified!" I don't feel, how-
ever, as if it would do my "laryngeal regions" much good even if
it were classified.
Yours, mucussedly, A DABBLER IN EGYPTIANS.~}
P.S.-A sanitary expert has just told us that our house happens to
be planted over an old cesspool, and that all the domestic pipes
connect directly with it. Possibly, after all, the alkaloid is not so
guilty as we thought.

NOTICE. Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule

A LESSON FROM THE AUTUMN MANOEUVRES.

THE EFFECTIVE USE OF MOUNTED INFANTRY.

THE PRINCESS PAPOFFSCHIN'S LITTLE DINNER. (A Story à la Mode for Those who Know.)

THE sitting of the International Conference for the Suppression of Bounties on Sugar had been prolonged to an unusually late hour The assembled Ministers had been dealing with a delicate phase of reciprocal engagements, and had determined not to separate until they had at least a rough draft of the Convention in something like a completed shape; and having accomplished this, they were about to rise, when a Messenger entered, and handed a note to the Baron. It was a scented epistle on rose-leaf paper, and ran as follows:MON CHER BARON,

You must be weary after your labours of this afternoon, and will need relaxation. What do you say to a petit diner chez moi to refresh you? Persuade, then, your good confrères to join you, and come, all of you, sans cérémonie, just as you are, and honour me with your company. I may, peut être, have des nouvelles de Constantinople to give you. Mais, nous verrons ce soir, n'est-ce pas ? Come. Yours always devotedly, FEDEOREVNA PAPOFFSCHIN.

"It is from the Princess," said the Baron, his face beaming with a kindling radiance as he glanced at the contents of the dainty missive before him. 'She asks us all to dine with her quite informally. Listen!" Then he read the little note. There was a murmur of approbation from the Conference. Instantly they rose as if by one accord, and hurriedly collecting the business papers before them, thrust them into their respective coat-pockets. They had all of them only one reply to make. They accepted with enthusiasm. Nor was this surprising. The Princess FEDEOREVNA PAPOFFSCHIN was no ordinary woman.

The man bowed profoundly. He had understood his orders. He knew that the dishes were to be drugged, and the champagne doctored with morphia.

Several courses had been disposed of, and the dinner was apparently promising to be a great success. Never was hostess more bewitchingly entertaining; never were guests more enthusiastic. On the right of the Princess sat the Baron, on her left the German Count. The conversation was airy and brilliant.

"How about those promised nouvelles from Constantinople, Princess?" asked the Baron, endeavouring to give the talk a practical turn. But his fair hostess only replied with a little timely badinage, and motioned to the servant to fill up her interlocutor's glass with more champagne. So the dinner sped on. The cuisine was pronounced excellent, the wine superb. But little by little, almost imperceptibly, the conversation began to quiet down. It halted strangely. Then it dropped altogether. It seemed as if all the guests were gradually becoming so absorbed in some private reflections of their own, that they did not care to break the silence for the purpose of imparting their thoughts to their neighbours. Then some of them closed their eyes.

The Baron, who noticed the soporific influence stealing over him, thought that he must somehow have been taking too much wine, and elected to hold his tongue. He struggled against the feeling for a short time. Then he succumbed. In like manner, in a few more minutes, so did all the rest. And it was not to be wonMaintenon, and had just partaken of a Salade à la Russe mixed dered at. They had had bromide of potassium in the Potage à la with chloral hydrate. This had finished them. They had all of them sunk back into their chairs, overcome by a profound narcotic slumber. Then the Princess rose. touched a little brass knob. Instantly a panel slid back, disclosing a She approached the wall, and chamber beyond.

66

Entrez, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur," she said, addressing some one within. "Voyons! Ces Messieurs are ready to receive you." She had scarcely spoken when a tall personage, wearing a fez, crossed the threshold. This was the Turkish Ambassador, and he was followed by twelve Secretaries of the Legation.

"You are sure, Madame, they will not wake?" he asked, cautiously surveying the prostrate forms before him. The Princess replied by striking a loud dinner-gong. Not one of the sleepers stirred. The Ambassador was satisfied.

66

To your work, Messieurs," he said, addressing his subordinates. In another minute the pockets of all the unconscious Plenipotentiaries had been rifled of their contents which were being rapidly but methodically transcribed by the practised Secretaries.

The task did not take long. It was over in four hours and threequarters. The papers were returned to the pockets of the different Ministers from which they had been respectively abstracted. Their coats were carefully rebuttoned. Then the Turkish Ambassador withdrew.

That night he telegraphed to Constantinople in cypher.

A little later, eighteen cabs in charge of eighteen policemen were conveying the now recovering Ministers to their respective homes. That which contained the Baron, now partially aroused, had drawn up at his own door. As he descended, though still dazed, he seemed to

"Why! what does this mean?" he asked, trying to collect his scattered thoughts. "Where have I come from?"

The Policeman smiled.

The Baron stared inquiringly at the smiler, then staggered feebly up the steps, entered the house, and went to bed.

The next morning the Marquis and the Baron received a telegraphic despatch from the British Minister at Constantinople, informing them that the Sultan proposed an immediate seizure of Egypt.

"That's odd," they remarked, thoughtfully. But they never connected the circumstance with the Princess Papoffschin's Little Dinner.

Born in Russia, she soon after the death of her husband, the Prince, had appeared in diplomatic society in Belgrade, and had rapidly, by her intelligence, tact, and capacity for intrigue, succeeded in getting herself such an acknowledged factor in the stirring political move-notice the Policeman's uniform. ment of the times that she had received her passports, and had been requested to leave the country at twenty-four hours' notice. Transferring in turns her residence to Vienna, Madrid, Berlin, and other European capitals where similar experiences invariably after a time awaited her, she was next heard of as the intimate friend of several Parisian statesmen of note, and though her career in the French capital had come to a rather sudden termination, owing to the connection of her name with a celebrated café chantant scandal, she seemed to have preserved enough of her reputation to assure her a hearty welcome among the leading lights of English diplomatic society. Regarded as intimately acquainted with the secret counsels of the Sultan, her friendship was eagerly cultivated by the heads of the Foreign Office, and it was not an uncommon sight to see her surrounded in some West End salon by a thronging crowd of politicians and statesmen hanging on her lightest word. Indeed, it was stated that the Premier himself was so deep in her confidence that the entire direction of his Eastern Policy had latterly been due to her advice and influence. It was not to be wondered at that the Conference accepted her invitation with alacrity. A chance of an informal evening with the fascinating Princess in her delightful mansion in Mayfair out of the season was not an experience to be missed, and at a little before a quarter to eight three four-wheelers conveying the expectant Plenipotentiaries were making their way up Piccadilly to their coveted destination.

In the course of the same afternoon the Princess had prepared for their advent. She had sent for her Major Domo. "I have a little dinner this evening," she said. "We shall be eighteen." Then she added, significantly, "I am expecting diplomatists."

Poetry and Partridges.

"FIRST Love never lasts," says some stupid old song ;
It simply dies out like an ill-lighted ember.

The Poet-as usual-is utterly wrong

Just look at Man's love for the First of September!
Fickle Romeos may shift in their amorous troubles,
But "First Love" is stable enough-in the Stubbles!

BETSY THE SECOND.-At Hammersmith, the other day, one ELIZABETH TUDOR was sentenced by Mr. PAGET to two months' imprisonment for stealing a sovereign. ELIZABETH TUDOR the First anticipated the crime in the matter of MARY STUART Three hundred years ago it was a case of stealing a sovereign-with an axe! History repeats itself.