re the
thrilling story of how he met HENRY PETTITT in the brave days of old.

A whiff of _The Three Musketeers_ would exhilarate the house at the
entry of "Chicot," the Jester of _The Sketch_; while finally we might
look for an excellent effect from "Claudius Clear" and "A Man of Kent,"
of _The British Weekly_, masquerading as the Heavenly Twins.

These notes merely, of course, touch the fringe of a vast subject. Many
other holders of famous _noms de guerre_ remain, such as "Mr. Gossip"
and "Mrs. Gossip," and "Captain Coe" and "A Playful Stallite," and
"Historicus" and "Atlas" and "Scrutator" and "Alpha of the Plough"; but
only "Eve" has had the wit to include pictures of herself in every
article; therefore only "Eve" can be instantly recognised. These others,
if they wish to be equally successful on the stage (and it is certain
they would like to be), must have always a portrait too. The Heavenly
Twins might like to use one, by Mr. WELLS, which already exists.

* * * * *

THE DOVE.

I was at first inclined to look upon this dove as being largely
symbolical. So far as I could gather it had never been here before--at
any rate no one could be found who had seen it here or in the
neighbourhood, and it seemed obvious that its sudden emergence, as it
were, out of nothing must have some high and dove-like signification.

Probably before the end of the week the KAISER would sue for peace and
swallow Mr. ASQUITH'S formula. Since then, however, Verdun has happened
and VON TIRPITZ has gone, and nobody seems in the least disposed to stop
the crash of arms. That being so, and the dove being still with us, I am
forced, in spite of myself, to look upon it as an entirely real bird and
to keep on wondering what strange freak brought it to us and made it an
honoured member of this household.

It arrived about ten weeks ago quite unexpectedly and suddenly. One
morning there was no dove; on the following morning, having fluttered
hither from I know not what remote and solitary region, it had perched
on the branch of a poplar set close to the house. There it remained
while we breakfasted, and from that point of vantage it broke out into a
long series of loud and melodious cooings that sounded like nothing so
much as a gurgling stream of benedictions poured out over the house and
those who dwelt in it by one who plainly proposed to be a grateful
though not a paying guest. It was wonderful to hear it.