* * * * * I breathe again; it is half an hour since I addressed that ruddy-faced official, from whom, thank goodness, I have at last contrived to escape. He has kept me there, giving me, as it were, a lecture on the black board, telling me what this rule might mean if it were read one way, and what that rule might mean if it were read another way, and what both rules might mean if they were each of them read in totally different ways; and how one was labelled "_a_" (which I saw for myself), and how another was distinguished by being lettered "_b_"; and how he (my constabulary instructor) "wasn't quite sure himself whether his reading of 'em was quite right;" then going over all the paragraphs again in detail, indicating each syllable with his finger, as though he were teaching an infant spelling-class, and finally coming to the conclusion whereat _Bottom_ the Weaver arrived when he surmised that it was all "past the wit of man to understand," and advising me that, on the whole, if any particular case of attempted extortion should happen to arise, I should do well _not_ to appeal to these rules and regulations, but to summon the extortionist before the nearest police magistrate. "But," said he, as if struck by a new light, "it may be that this rule '_a_'"----And here he faced round, in order more closely to inspect the mysterious cryptogram. Taking advantage of his eye being off me for one second, which it had never once been during the previous thirty minutes, I stepped as lightly and rapidly away as my thirteen stone will permit, and fled. I fancied I heard him calling after me that he had discovered something or other; but not even if he had shouted "Stop thief!" should I have paused in my Mazeppa-like career. "Once aboard the lugger," I exclaim to myself, quoting the melodramatic pirate, "and I am free!" So saying, I entered the hospitable gates of my present tenancy, and sank exhausted on the sofa. _Mem._--Never again ask a policeman to explain strange cab-rules and regulations. * * * * * NOT A QUESTION AT ISSUE. ["Mr. GOSSE holds a middle station between the older and the younger schools of criticism. He is neither a distinguished and respectable fossil nor a wild and whirling catherine-wheel."--_Athenaeum._] Oh, luckiest of Critics! What A joy unquestioning to feel On such authority he's not "A wild and whirling catherine-wheel." And is it such a wild idea To think that clever Mr. GOSSE'll Rejoice he's reckoned not to be a "Respectable, distinguished fossil?" * * * * * [Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED OTHERWISE. _Would-be Considerate Hostess_ (_to Son of the House_). "HOW INATTENTIVE YOU ARE, JOHN! YOU REALLY MUST LOOK AFTER MR. BROWN. _HE'S HELPING HIMSELF TO EVERYTHING!_" [_Discomfiture of Brown, who, if somewhat shy, is conscious of a very healthy appetite._ ]