It is well known to the two hundred thousand readers of this magazine that its bald-headed editor often pulls his hair on the platform. He boarded the cars one day and slung his big valise between two seats and sat down by a drummer. The drummer looked at the valise and then at the bald-headed man and bluntly asked, “Are you a traveling man, sir?” “Yes, sir,” was the reply. “What line of goods are you selling?” queried the drummer. “Sweetened wind,” was the answer. “Oh, you are!” said the drummer; “preacher or lecturer?”—_Robert L. Taylor._ A ROYAL RESIDENCE. By James Henry Stevenson. One morning the Professor, whom I had not seen since I left Tennessee, accidentally unearthed me in London and proposed that we should visit Windsor. Now, I may as well confess to defective initiative, in regard to sight-seeing, for I had been within reach of Windsor on several former occasions and had not yet seen the home of the most gracious queen the world has ever known. This, too, in face of the fact that a German professor had assured me that Windsor was “himmlisch.” When a German so far forgets himself as to say that anything English is “heavenly,” be assured he has great provocation. [Illustration: WINDSOR CASTLE FROM THE THAMES. ] Of course, I acceded without hesitation to the Professor’s proposal and we selected a train, appointed a _rendezvous_, and agreed to go the following morning. The Professor’s traveling companion was a “blue grass” doctor of divinity, while I was courier, guide, and advance agent to the “delegate,” sent by his admiring countrymen and brethren to unload some ecclesiastical “thunder and lightning” on their conservative confrères in the old land. The “delegate’s” wife was traveling with him as a sort of balance wheel on his too impetuous energy and to see that he was not imposed on by the overbearing foreigner; she was not averse to a little vigorous sight-seeing when otherwise unemployed. They also joined the party, which was completed by “Wee McGregor,” as the eight-year-old was called, who looked to me for his traveling expenses. Having visited London before, and being possessed of an unearned reputation as a _dragoman_, I felt it was incumbent on me to show the party the best and quickest way to reach Windsor. Accordingly I hailed one of those obsolete conveyances which the London City Fathers provide for the traveler, to whom the conservation of energy is of more moment than arriving at a destination.