Steinitz was so much gratified with the reminder of mine at Simpson's, that three of the greatest minds ever known have had the same initials that he will pardon the little addition joke from Paternoster Row. The three mighty W.S.'s are Wilhelm Steinitz, William Shakespeare and Walter Scott. He was not so well pleased with the addition of the unnecessary missing words William Sykes. Steinitz was introduced at a club once as the Champion. "Of what?" was the reply. Steinitz has been known to grieve much when he has lost at chess; at Dundee, for example, in 1866 after his defeat by De Vere his friends became alarmed at his woe and disappearance. Again, after his fall to Rosenthal in a game he should have won at the Criterion in 1883, news were brought that he was on a seat in St. James' Park quite uncontrollable. Steinitz is liberally disposed to others in mind and purse. The following brevities on chess are known to have been much admired by him, I therefore append them for his artistic eye. So old and enthusiastic a chess player as Bird, and one who has travelled about so much professionally, and on chess, has naturally been the object of many pleasantries, and bon mots, although he escaped the Fortnightly Review writers, being regarded, at least by one of them as a very serious person, L'Anglais comme il faut of the Vienna Neue Frie Presse. The despised Britisher of custom house officers (who always chalk him away, hardly deigning to examine his luggage even). He has figured as the sea captain of the New York Sun, the farmer of the Rochester Press, the ladies chess professor of the Albany Argus, and the veteran of the Montreal Press, his vicissitudes have led him into strange places, among others to a wigwam of the Indians at Sarnia in 1860, and a representation of one in the Vienna Exhibition of 1873, when much to the amusement of Professor Anderssen and Baron Kolisch he received such a cordial reception from a lady who recognized him as an old friend and customer at Niagara falls, the lady in question being commonly termed a squaw (not a disrespectful word for a lady it is hoped). Bird has been in the Nest at Amsterdam, in the Bowery at New York, and in the accident ward at Vienna, and has witnessed many strange things and distressing circumstances, and has endured interviewers and Irish Home Rulers in America without a shudder, and has perhaps been asked more questions about chess than any man living, because he good naturedly always answers them, and has furnished matter enough in ten minutes for a two-column article. He has been accused of a partiality for whisky hot, especially when served by female hands, of ordering soles by special train at Nuremberg, though he only disposed or them at breakfast not knowing their price or from whence they came. Blackburne and Hoffer are responsible for the statement that he sat up through the night at Vienna preparing statistics, with nothing but his hat on. The allegation in the Field and