As I began by saying, I weep for Sidney's approaching end. For my housekeeper leaves this week. A new one takes her place. How will she treat my poor Sidney? The old card of instructions is lost; what can I give her in its place? The legend that Sidney's is a precious life--that he must have his morning bath, his run, his glass of hot water after meals! She would laugh at it. Besides, she may not be at all the sort of foster-mother for a Japanese dwarf-tree.... It will break my heart if Sidney dies now, for I had so looked forward to celebrating his ninetieth birthday with him. It will hurt Celia too. But _her_ grief, of course, will be an inferior affair. In fact, a couple of pairs of silk stockings will help her to forget him altogether. THE FINANCIER. I This is how I became a West African mining magnate with a stake in the Empire. During February I grew suddenly tired of waiting for the summer to begin. London in the summer is a pleasant place, and chiefly so because you can keep on buying evening papers to see what Kent is doing. In February life has no such excitements to offer. So I wrote to my solicitor about it. "I want you" (I wrote) "to buy me fifty rubber shares, so that I can watch them go up and down." And I added "Brokerage 1/8" to show that I knew what I was talking about. He replied tersely as follows:-- "Don't be a fool. If you have any money to invest I can get you a safe mortgage at five per cent. Let me know." It's a funny thing how the minds of solicitors run upon mortgages. If they would only stop to think for a moment they would see that you couldn't possibly watch a safe mortgage go up and down. I left my solicitor alone and consulted Henry on the subject. In the intervals between golf and golf Henry dabbles in finance. "You don't want anything gilt-edged, I gather?" he said. It's wonderful how they talk. "I want it to go up and down," I explained patiently, and I indicated the required movement with my umbrella. "What about a little flutter in oil?" he went on, just like a financier in a novel. "I'll have a little flutter in raspberry jam if you like. Anything as long as I can rush every night for the last edition of the evening papers and say now and then, 'Good heavens, I'm ruined.'" "Then you'd better try a gold-mine," said Henry bitterly, in the voice of one who had tried. "Take your choice," and he threw the paper over to me. "I don't want a whole mine--only a vein or two. Yes, this is very interesting," I went on, as I got among the West Africans. "The scoring seems to be pretty low; I suppose it must have been a wet wicket. 'H.E. Reef, 1-3/4, 2'--he did a little better in the second innings. '1/2, Boffin River, 5/16, 7/16'--they followed on, you see, but they saved the innings defeat. By the way, which figure do I really keep my eye on when I want to watch them go up and down?" "Both. One eye on each. And don't talk about Boffin River to me."