Can it ever be said that there is nothing in the papers, when advertisers are always to the fore, providing matter for admiration, wonder, amusement, or speculation? One day a gentleman announces the loss of his heart between the stalls and boxes of the Haymarket Theatre; the next, we have ‘R. N.’ telling ‘Dearest E.’—‘If you have the slightest inclination to become first-mate on board the screw-steamer, say so, and I will ask papa;’ and by-and-by we are trying to guess how the necessity arose for the following: ‘St James’s Theatre, Friday.—The Gentleman to whom a Lady offered her hand, apologises for not being able to take it.’ Does any one want two thousand pounds? That nice little sum is to be obtained by merely introducing a certain New-Yorker to ‘the Pontess;’ or if he or she be dead, to his or her heirs. ‘There is a doubt whether the cognomen was, or is, borne by a woman, a man, or a child; if by the last, it must have been born prior to the spring of 1873.’ If the Pontess-seeker fails in his quest from not knowing exactly what it is that he wants, an advertiser in the _Times_ is likely to have the same fortune from knowing, and letting those interested know, exactly what it is that he does not want. Needing the services of a married pair as coachman and cook, this outspoken gentleman stipulates that the latter must not grumble at her mistress being her own housekeeper; nor expect fat joints to be ordered to swell her perquisites; nor be imbued with the idea that because plenty may be around, she is bound to swell the tradesmen’s bills by as much waste as possible. ‘No couple need apply that expect the work to be put out, are fond of change, or who dictate to their employers how much company may be kept.’