ad plenty of work to do
afterwards. She had to mend, and to scrub, and to sweep, and to sew. She
was not off her legs for a moment, and had she been a weaker woman, she
would have been thoroughly done up. Then came the children's evening
toilette and the cooking of BOB'S supper. Her lord and master entered in
due course, and she helped him off with his coat, and (when he had
finished his food) lighted his pipe for him.

"Mended my clothes?" asked BOB.

"Of course I have."

"And washed my linen, and druv nails into my boots, and baked the bread,
and pickled the walnuts, and all the rest of it?"

"Yes, BOB, I have done them all--every one of them."

This put BOB into a better temper, and he took out an evening paper, and
began to read it.

"I say," said he; "what do you think! They have got white slaves in
Turkey!"

"You don't say so, BOB!" replied Mrs. BOB, lost in amazement. Then she
said as she paused tidying up the room, "Ah! they wouldn't allow
anything of _that_ sort in England!--would they, BOB?"

And BOB, smoking his pipe, and sprawling before the fire, agreed with
her!

* * * * *

The Riviera in Bond Street.

Why take a long journey and spend a lot of money, when the Riviera is
within a shilling cab-fare? Why not apply at 148, New Bond Street, and
obtain one of the Fine Art Society's "excursion _coupons_," and get
yourself personally conducted by Mr. JOHN FULLEYLOVE to Nice, Monte
Carlo, Genoa, and all sorts of delightful places? Take _Mr. Punch's_
advice, and go there at once! And, when you have exhausted the Riviera,
you have another treat in a series of well-nigh seventy drawings of
Cambridge. These are skilfully limned, with scrupulous architectural
accuracy and charming pictorial effect, and will give great delight to
Cantabrians, old and young. They are worthy to take their place beside
the excellent series of pictures of Oxford which Mr. FULLEYLOVE
exhibited some time ago.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE FOREIGN FOX.

(_With apologies to AEsop._)]

* * * * *

[Illustration]

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

"Bring me my books!" said the Baron, not for the first time. But on this
occasion the Baron was a prisoner in bed, and likely to remain so for
many days. Consequently, he required amusement. He had heard of a book,
called _Three Men in a Boat_, by Mr. JEROME K. JEROME, some of whose
obse