e idea was good, but hardly practical.

* * * * *

SOCIAL SCIENCE BY TELEGRAPH.

The right of an independent Briton to beat his wife without being liable
to impertinent foreign interference is well known to be one of the most
precious privileges inherited from Magna Charta. The national use of
this privilege is now generally considered, by social philosophers, to
be the foundation of the love of "fair play," so universally
characteristic of the English. It is only upon this ground that we can
account for the following item recently telegraphed from London as a
_special to the N. Y. Times_.

"It is curious to see that, while the married men of the city are
against interference, all military and naval men are loud in expressions
of indignation because no effort is made by England to save France from
ruin."

As we see it, this is not curious at all. To the comprehensive English
mind, the war in Europe is a mere family quarrel, on a large scale. But
what is really curious the special does not tell us. What position do
the military and naval men take who happen to be married?

* * * * *

A GROWL FROM A BRITON.

Mr. Punchinello:--One of the balloon reporters from Paris says:

"Great care is taken to save food from waste. There is much horse-flesh
eaten."

For a Frenchman in a state of siege horse-flesh is all right--the French
eat frogs, you know, and horses have frogs in their feet. What I like
about the thing in Paris, though, is that they _call_ it horse-flesh,
and don't try to jerk it on a fellow for beef. Jerked beef is bad
enough, but only think of jerked horse, by Jove, you know!

Now I want to say that here in New York, not being in a state of siege,
we are eating a lot more horse-flesh than we know of, all the same--but
they call it beef.

Look here, now.

I take my grub, sometimes (only for the sake of seeing life, you know),
at a decent sort of a place enough, to which butchers resort. There is a
man always to be seen there at grub time, a cockish-looking fellow,
somewhat, with a horse-shoe pin in his scarf, and he is as thick as
thieves with the butchers. Yesterday, for the first time, I got an
inkling of who and what he is. I saw him performing an operation upon a
horse, in the yard of a livery stable. He is a VETERINARY SURGEON! He
consorts with BUTCHERS! Put that and that together, Mr. PUNCHINELLO, and
see what you can make of it. An