MRS. HARDUP: "Oh, he has done that. He was Chairman of that Thuringian Claret Company; and we got ever so many people about us to take a quantity. But it fermented--or did something stupid; and they do say it killed the poor Duke, who was very kind to Harry, you know, and took a hundred dozen at once. And now, of course, there's no sale--or whatever they call it; and Harry says if it can't be got rid of to a firm of Blue Ink Makers, who are inquiring about it, it will have to go out to the Colonies as Château Margaux--at a dreadful loss. [Summing up.] I don't believe the men understand trade a bit, dear. So I'm going to do something for myself." The sequel describes her initiation into the tricks of the trade by Lady Skribeler:-- Profiting by the morning's conversation, Mrs. Hardup besieges unprotected Editors, contributes to the literature of her country most interesting weekly accounts of the doings of her friends and acquaintances, and, it is to be hoped, practically solves, to her own satisfaction, the secret of the way in which a good many of us manage to live now. [Illustration: REMOVAL OF ANCIENT LANDMARKS LADY GWENDOLINE: "Papa says _I'm_ to be a great artist, and exhibit at the Royal Academy!" LADY YSEULTE: "And papa says _I'm_ to be a great pianist, and play at the Monday Pops!" LADY EDELGITHA: "And I'm going to be a famous actress, and act Ophelia, and cut out Miss Ellen Terry! Papa says I may--that is, if I _can_, you know!" THE NEW GOVERNESS: "Goodness gracious, young ladies! Is it possible His Grace can allow you even to _think_ of such things! Why, _my_ Papa was only a poor half-pay officer, but the bare thought of my ever playing in _public_ or painting for _hire_, would have simply _horrified_ him--and as for acting Ophelia or anything else--gracious goodness, you take my breath away!"] For success in this walk of journalism, "literary culture must be eschewed, for with literary culture come taste and discrimination--qualities which might fatally obstruct the path of the journalistic aspirant." It was not by any means monopolized by amateurs, and _Punch_, in his series of "Modern Types" a few years later, traces, under the heading "The Jack of all Journalisms," the rise to power and influence of a humble but unscrupulous scribe, successively venal musical and dramatic critic, interviewer and picturesque social reporter, but always "the blatant, cringing, insolent, able, disreputable wielder of a pen which draws much of its sting and its profit from the vanities and fears of his fellow-creatures." The sketch is an ingenious composite photograph, in which those familiar with London journalism in the 'eighties and 'nineties will recognize in almost every paragraph the lineaments of one or other of the most notorious and poisonous representatives of the Society Press.