s are liable to. The idea is monstrous of a _Cold
Furniss_. A _coal'd_ furniss is satisfactory. Don't take too much out of
yourself with riding. 'He speaks to thee who hath not got a
horse'--Shakespeare." Then follows later a specimen of his irrepressible
good humour:

_22 Nov._

"Alas and alack!
I've got a hack,
But the weather's been such,
I've not got on his back.

"I got no jog
Because of the fog,
And up to twelve,
In breeches and boots,
Which I had to shelve
And recover my foots.
I lunched at the 'G'
(So there was, you see,
One _Gee_ for me).

"Then I came back
And wrote some play
But oh, good lack!
No riding to-day.
If foggy here,
At Ramsgate 'twas clear.

"Alas and alack!
I'll sell my hack,
Much to my sorrow.
I'll ride to-morrow,
That is, if fine,
But not at nine.
I shall not start, if I'm alive
And have the heart, till ten forty-five.

"Away to parks I'll trot
To get a little hot,
Also to get a little dirty,
And with you be 11.30.

"Till one,
Then done.
Back to Lunch,
Then to Office of _Punch_.
This my plan, you'll be happy to learn, is
At your disposal, Mr. Furniss."

But excursions in search of material my editor and I had to do on foot,
and were not so pleasing; still, Mr. Burnand always managed to have his
little joke in all circumstances.

[Illustration]

One day he and I were "doing" the picture shows in the interests of Mr.
Punch. At one o'clock, feeling jaded and tired, a retreat to the Garrick
Club to lunch was suggested. "Happy thought!" said my editor. "Better
still, here is an invitation for two to the Exhibition of French Cookery
at Willis's Rooms. Capital lunch there, I should think." So off we went,
anticipating a _recherche_ lunch. Fancy our chagrin on arrival to find
cooks galore, discussing their art, but, alas! their art, like the high
art of the Masters of the Brush in our National Gallery, was all un