A pretty good story is related of one of Governor Tilton's staff. It is said that when the individual referred to first presented himself _en militaire_ to his wife and little daughter, the latter, after gazing at him for a few minutes, turned to her mother, and exclaimed: "Why, Ma, that's not a real soldier--it's Pa!" Equally observant was another youngster, who was sent by his parent to take a letter to the post-office and pay the postage on it. The boy returned highly elated, and said: "Father, I seed a lot of men putting letters in a little place; and when no one was looking, I slipped yours in for nothing." We hardly know whether the father would laugh or storm over this unconscious attempt to defraud the revenue. But no matter. Two little London girls who had been sent by the kindness of the vicar's wife to have "a happy day in the country," narrating their experiences on their return, said, "Oh, yes, mum, we did 'ave a happy day. We saw two pigs killed and a gentleman buried." It is the rare that fascinates. Many years ago, I was living in a house where, on an evening, a little Miss was toiling over her school-lesson, and declaiming loudly, "The--sow--has--pigs." Being a city child, I wondered whether she knew of what she was reading, and asked, "Did you ever see a sow and pigs, Mary?" "No," she replied smartly, "but when I was going to the school the day, I saw a policeman getting his photograph taken." But speaking here of London children, reminds me of two London stories which should not be omitted. So here:-- Two small boys walking down Tottenham Court Road, passed a tobacconist's shop. The bigger remarked--"I say, Bill, I've got a ha-penny, and if you've got one too, we'll have a penny smoke between us." Bill produced his copper, and Tommy, diving into the shop, promptly re-appeared with a penny cigar in his mouth. The boys walked side by side for a few minutes, when the smaller mildly said, "I say, Tom, when am I to have a puff? The weed's half mine." "Oh, you shut up," was the business-like reply. "I'm the chairman of this company, and you are only a shareholder. You can spit." That is the first. The second, though less precocious, is yet more enjoyable. Besides, we know it is true, while the other--well, it is not above suspicion. One day, when seeking a model, Miss Dorothy Tennant (now Mrs. H. M. Stanley) discovered a likely subject in the shape of a crossing-sweeper; and, while conducting him to Richmond Terrace, she met her family's old friend, Mr. Gladstone. Greatly moved by her companion, he exclaimed: "Who's your friend?" Then and there the crossing-sweeper, much to his dismay, was presented to the "People's William." On entering the Tennant mansion, the urchin was tremendously impressed by the liveried servant who had opened the door, and, after looking back at him several times, whispered mysteriously to his kind hostess: "I say, miss, why does your big brother wear brass buttons?"