my acquaintance who incline toward
"wanting a couple of pounds till the day after to-morrow." But they
won't all see it. One of them once remarked that he objected to the
principle of the thing. I fancy if he had said it was the interest that
he objected to he would have been nearer the truth: twenty-five per
cent. certainly does come heavy.

There are degrees in being hard up. We are all hard up, more or
less--most of us more. Some are hard up for a thousand pounds; some for
a shilling. Just at this moment I am hard up myself for a fiver. I only
want it for a day or two. I should be certain of paying it back within a
week at the outside, and if any lady or gentleman among my readers would
kindly lend it me, I should be very much obliged indeed. They could send
it to me under cover to Messrs. Field & Tuer, only, in such case, please
let the envelope be carefully sealed. I would give you my I.O.U. as
security.

ON VANITY AND VANITIES.

All is vanity and everybody's vain. Women are terribly vain. So are
men--more so, if possible. So are children, particularly children. One
of them at this very moment is hammering upon my legs. She wants to know
what I think of her new shoes. Candidly I don't think much of them.
They lack symmetry and curve and possess an indescribable appearance of
lumpiness (I believe, too, they've put them on the wrong feet). But I
don't say this. It is not criticism, but flattery that she wants; and I
gush over them with what I feel to myself to be degrading effusiveness.
Nothing else would satisfy this self-opinionated cherub. I tried the
conscientious-friend dodge with her on one occasion, but it was not
a success. She had requested my judgment upon her general conduct and
behavior, the exact case submitted being, "Wot oo tink of me? Oo peased
wi' me?" and I had thought it a good opportunity to make a few salutary
remarks upon her late moral career, and said: "No, I am not pleased with
you." I recalled to her mind the events of that very morning, and I put
it to her how she, as a Christian child, could expect a wise and good
uncle to be satisfied with the carryings on of an infant who that very
day had roused the whole house at five AM.; had upset a water-jug and
tumbled downstairs after it at seven; had endeavored to put the cat in
the bath at eight; and sat on her own father's hat at nine thirty-five.

What did she do? Was she grateful to me for my plain speaking? Did she
ponder upon my