rt of aquarium, in which some
amiable sharks reposed, was a fresh-water tank. This wild girl
was elegantly brought up, as far as their somewhat straitened
circumstances would permit, for she learned songs and ballads, French,
English, and the Norman _patois_ of the Channel Islands. In these
peculiar troglodytian surroundings she had never learned the use of
parasol or umbrella, and was entirely ignorant of harp, piano, and
the "use of the globes." Coming up out of the caves and breathing once
more the upper air, we naturally find ourselves in higher society, and
are introduced to a handsome old Peer, _Lord Netherdale_, who has two
sons, the half-brothers _Royallet_, one of whom gaily addresses his
respected parent as "The Paladin of Paters," and is not at once locked
up in Colney Hatch. The old Peer is as eccentric as he is handsome,
and he takes up his residence on the Island of Breke, where "the
fruit, the vegetables, the strange sea-creatures" (odd fish?), "which
made their appearance on his table," (this sounds as if the strange
sea-creatures walked in unasked. Queer place this Breke for a
Breke-fast party!) "pleased him." He was easily pleased. Then "he
began to think the island cider preferable to Pommery. In short, the
eccentric Peer fell in love with Breke." Well! he must have been an
eccentric Peer to prefer Channel Island cider, even from the best
orchards, to the '84, '80, and '74--the last still existing in some
exceptionally favoured spots--from the vinevards of Pommery. This
eccentric nobleman on seeing the Island of Breke, observed the absence
of a landing-stage, and jocosely remarked to himself, "They're in want
of a _pier; I_ will fix myself there." And so he did. But of all that
happened to him there and elsewhere, and to the Earth-to-Earth Girl,
and to the two sons, is it not to be read by the purchaser in the book
itself, which, the Baron is pleased to add, will well repay perusal,
and will hold the reader's attention to the very last line. At least,
this was its effect on the not always easily pleased.

BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.

* * * * *

A NEW "ARNOLD'S EXERCISE."

MY DEAR MR. DACRE,

I have seen your Play, and, since then, I have not seen any other like
it. "When will I come again?" To see it twice within a week would be
too ecstatic a joy for a dweller--may I say a Liver--in London, who
is more at home as one of the Lights of Asia. So, for the present--to
paraph