Yours, &c., PASTOR IGNOTUS. * * * * * SPORTING ANSWERS. COUNTRY HOUSE. TYRO.--You are quite right--a four-in-hand is worth two in the bush, which, as you justly observe, no good wine needs. To handle the reins correctly, proceed as follows. Divide the sum-total of all the reins measured to a _millimetre_ by half a forefinger, no allowance being made for chalk-stones, or stiff knuckles. Multiply the quotient by the off-wheel-rein, and add the near leader's blinkers to the result. Then pass your left thumb under your right middle finger, taking care at the same time to tie the off-leading-rein round your neck in a sailor's knot. Add six yards of whipcord to the near leader's shoulders, subtract yourself from the box, and send us your doctor's bill, for purposes of comparison. WHO'S WHO?--(1) _Roundabout Sammy_ is a very promising horse, by _Engineer_, out of _Little Joker_. He was not bred in France, for, though there is a Parisian accent about some of his neighs, there is a distinctly British look about his nose. He is a trifle cobby, no doubt, but he is a capital feeder, and should go well in a double harness, with 84 '_Pommery_, his constant stable companion. (2.) Peat Moss Litter is not generally used for soup, or table decorations. (3.) The appearance you refer to is probably _rubinosis brandiginiata_. It is due to the absorption of _liquor per haustum_. The snakes you sent us are indigenous to the hill-country of Del Trementi. * * * * * [Illustration: HOW RAPID CONVERSIONS ARE MADE. _Lady Circe._ "WHAT, YOU DON'T APPRECIATE _WAGNER_, MR. JONES? YOU MUST LET ME PLAY YOU A LITTLE OF _PARSIFAL_." [_Does so, and Jones, who has no ear for Music whatever, becomes an ardent and aggressive Wagnerite on the spot, and remains so for the rest of his life!_ ] * * * * * UNCLE TOBY AND WIDOW WADMAN. (MODERN ULSTER VERSION.) _A Fragment after the Fashion of Sterne._ _Uncle Toby_ Mr. J-HN B-LL. _Widow Wadman_ Mrs. ULST-R. "I AM half distracted, Captain SHANDY," said Mrs. WADMAN, holding up her cambric handkerchief to her left eye, as she approached the door of my Uncle TOBY'S Sentry-Box--"a mote, or sand, or small fly, or something, I know not what, has got into this eye of mine. The Gardener declares it is one of those Green Flies which are the pest of this Distressful Country. I refuse to believe _that_. There never was, never will, never can, never _shall_ be any Green in _my_ eye. But whatever it is, mote or beam, it is awfully irritating. Do look into it; it is not in the white, or perhaps I should say--for I am a brunette of olive complexion, you know--in the Yellow----" In saying which, Mrs. WADMAN edged herself close in beside my Uncle TOBY, and squeezing herself down upon the corner of his bench, she gave him an opportunity of doing it without rising up "_Do_ look into it!" said she.