It may be taken for granted that the rising School of Art is in the ascendant; it is easy to believe in an overcome toper being found ‘with a pint-pot in his hand, which he could not drink;’ but some of the statements made in the newspapers tax one’s credulity overmuch. Lenient as magistrates are towards feminine offenders, they would scarcely content themselves with fining a virago for ‘breaking her mother-in-law’s arm by weekly instalments.’ Good bats as there are in the Surrey Eleven, we must take leave to doubt that one of them scored seven hundred and twelve runs in an innings. And clever as French doctors may be, they are not so clever as a Paris correspondent makes out, when, relating the discovery of a murder in that city, he tells us that ‘the only portion of the body not entirely destroyed was the left foot; and a medical examination of the remains proved that the man had been killed by blows on the head.’ Shakspeare was wrong in supposing there was any bourne from which no traveller could return. Glorifying the doings of Nares’s band of Arctic explorers, a leader-writer said: ‘From the leader of the expedition, who occupied the crow’s-nest until he was overcome by exhaustion, to the humblest seaman who died from fatigue and cold, all have earned the rewards of heroes, and have come back laden with stores of knowledge.’ An unlucky workman overbalancing himself and tumbling from his airy perch into the street, we read: ‘The deceased was seen to pitch head foremost from the scaffold, and little hopes are entertained of his recovery.’ Perhaps the deceased might have got over it, had his doctor been as devoted as the gentleman called in to do his best for a poor hurt lad, who ‘was in frequent attendance upon him after the inquest.’ Not, it may be hoped, from the remorseful feeling actuating his professional brother into writing: ‘This is to certify that I attended Mrs S. during her last illness, and that she died in consequence thereof.’