Our Special's account is too late
for this week. He went away on Friday last, and was last seen on board
the new P. & O. ship _Victoria_. Wire just received says, "Steamed
through Fleet in tug. Tender reminiscences. Big guns everywhere. We're
the biggest. Salutations." That's all!

* * * * *

MRS. R. says she is glad her nephew became a good horseman before he was
called to the Bar, as he is always now going on Circus.

* * * * *

[Illustration: FELINE AMENITIES.

TWO CASES OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY.

_Mrs. de Vere Jones (rushing up to Mrs. Stanley Brown, whom she hates)._
"OH, _HOW_ DO YOU DO, _DEAR LADY WRYMOUTH?_"

[_Lady Wrymouth is said to be the plainest Woman in the whole British
Peerage!_

_Mrs. Stanley Brown._ "VERY WELL, THANKS, _DEAR MRS. CORMORAN._ HOW ARE
YOU?"

[_Mrs. Cormoran is said to be the plainest Woman in the whole British
Empire!_]

* * * * *

MAKING IT EASY;

OR, THE SHOEMAKER AND THE CONSIDERATE CUSTOMER.

_Shoemaker_... Lord S-L-SB-RY. _Customer_... Lord H-RT-NGT-N.

_Customer._ H-o-w-o-u-g-h!!!

_Shoemaker (solicitously)._ Beg pardon, m'Lord! Hurt you, m'Lord?

_Customer._ Hurt? I should think it did, indeed.

_Shoemaker._ Very strange, m'Lord. 'Tother one seems to fit you to a
nicety. (_Aside._) Fancied _that_ might be a tight fit now.

_Customer._ Humph! I can make shift with that. But this won't do at all.
Tight across the instep and pinches the toes awfully. (_Aside._) Hang
it! it's a beastly bad fit everyway; but that it wouldn't suit to me
change just now, I'd throw the confounded things on his hands and go
elsewhere.

_Shoemaker (aside)._ He looks grumpy; I must mind my eye, or I shall
lose his custom. And that wouldn't suit my books a bit--just now.
(_Aloud._) Awfully sorry, I'm sure, m'Lord. We must try again.

_Customer._ You ought to have got the measure of my foot better than
this, especially when I handed you my old lasts.

_Shoemaker._ Well, m'Lord, you see, you've a bit--ahem!--_outgrown_ 'em
like, don't you see, m'Lord?

_Customer._ _Outgrown_ them? What do you mean? Feet don't _grow_ at my
time of life.

_Shoemaker (aside)._ How shall I put it so as not to huff him? Bunions
_are_ a growth; so are corns--of a kind. (_Aloud._) Why, m'Lord, I
think--I--a--fancy your last pair--Gladstone highlows they were--weren't
they?--trying shoes for tender feet, m'Lord--must