Permit me--'Tis a Panorama, In which the person of the drama, Mid orientals dusk and tawny, Mid warriors drinking brandy pawnee, Mid scorpions, dowagers, and griffins, In morning rides, at noon-day tiffins, In every kind of place and weather, Is solaced ... by a sprig of heather. (_More seriously._) He puts that faded scrap before The "Rajah," or the "Koh-i-noor".... He would not barter it for all Benares, or the Taj-Mahal.... It guides,--directs his every act, And word, and thought--In short--in fact-- I mean ... (_Opening his locket._) Look, Helen, that's the heather! (Too late! Here come both Aunts together.) HELEN. What heather, Sir? (_After a pause._) And why ... "too late?" --Aunt Dora, how you've made us wait! Don't you agree that it's a pity Portraits are hung by the Committee? THE LAST DESPATCH. Hurrah! the Season's past at last; At length we've "done" our pleasure. Dear "Pater," if you _only_ knew How much I've _longed_ for home and you,-- Our own green lawn and leisure! And then the pets! One half forgets The dear dumb friends--in Babel. I hope my special fish is fed;-- I long to see poor Nigra's head Pushed at me from the stable! I long to see the cob and "Rob,"-- Old Bevis and the Collie; And _won't_ we read in "Traveller's Rest"! Home readings after all are best;-- None else seem half so "jolly!" One misses your dear kindly store Of fancies quaint and funny; One misses, too, your kind _bon-mot_;-- The Mayfair wit I mostly know Has more of gall than honey! How tired one grows of "calls and balls!" This "_toujours perdrix_" wearies; I'm longing, quite, for "Notes on Knox"; (_Apropos_, I've the loveliest box For holding _Notes and Queries_!) A change of place would suit my case. You'll take me?--on probation? As "Lady-help," then, let it be; I feel (as Lavender shall see), That Jams are _my_ vocation! How's Lavender? My love to her. Does Briggs still flirt with Flowers?-- Has Hawthorn stubbed the common clear?-- You'll let me give _some_ picnics, Dear, And ask the Vanes and Towers? I met Belle Vane. "HE'S" still in Spain! Sir John won't let them marry. Aunt drove the boys to Brompton Rink; And Charley,--changing Charley,--think, Is now _au mieux_ with Carry! And NO. You know what "_No_" I mean-- There's no one yet at present: The Benedick I have in view Must be a something wholly new,-- One's father's _far_ too pleasant. So hey, I say, for home and you! Good-by to Piccadilly; Balls, beaux, and Bolton-row, adieu! Expect me, Dear, at half-past two; Till then,--your Own Fond--MILLY.