d in the _Lady
of Lyons_, and after the performance recited the following epilogue,
suggested by Lord Lytton's recent death:

FAIR LADIES AND GOOD SIRS: Since last this play
Was acted on this stage, has passed away
Its noble author from the gaze of men,
No more, alas! to wield his facile pen.
In Knebworth's ancient park, across the sea,
Lord Lytton sleeps, but not his witchery.
The dramatist, romancer, poet, still
Can touch our hearts and captivate our will;
For laureled genius has the power to brave
Death's fell advance, and lives beyond the grave:
Bear witness, this grand audience clustered here.
Your plaudits cannot reach dead Lytton's ear,
But no more sweet libation can you pour
To Lytton's memory, on this distant shore,
Than your prolonged applause, which now proclaims,
Though the great author's gone, his fame remains.

M. M.

GENERAL LEE CONVULSED.

An old lady who knew General R. E. Lee almost from childhood declared
that when he was a young man he enjoyed fun and indulged in harmless
frolics as much as anybody. Later in life, and after his sons became
stout lads, it is said that he was fond of sleeping with them, in order
that he might in the morning engage in a regular old-fashioned romp and
pillow-fight with the boys. During the war, though habitually grave, as
befitted a commanding officer, he relished an occasional joke very
highly. When some of his staff mistook a jug of buttermilk that had been
sent him for "good old apple-jack," and made wry faces in gulping it
down, he did not attempt to conceal his merriment. So, too, when
inquiring into the nature of "this new game, 'chuck-a-buck,' I think
they call it," which had been introduced into his army, there was a sly
twinkle in his eye that showed how shrewdly he guessed its real purport
as a gambling game. So, again, it is reported that he appreciated fully
the "sell" which a wag on his staff palmed off upon a reporter, who
promptly inserted it in the papers. The reporter wanted to know General
Lee's hour for dining.

"Six o'clock--exactly at six," was the reply.

"I infer, then, that it is rather a formal meal?"

"Decidedly formal--in fact, I may say it is a rigidly military dinner."

"Military! how military?"

"Well, you see General Lee sits at the head of the table, and Colonel
Chilton at the foot, and everything is done in red-tape style."

"Red tape at table! I don't