"Trust me, gentlemen," continued Mr. PUNCH, "all that was really good--like this--in the Good Old Times you know can be preserved in the Better New Times we hope for. There will be plenty of work for the Sir ROGERS, the Dr. SYNTAXES, for your humane Vicar, Doctor, and your Squire HEARTY and Squire BOUNTY, in the New Village as in the old one. We love the old country customs, but our country dance cannot for ever be to the same old tune--even the loved and time-honoured one of '_Sir Roger de Coverley_'!" "Sir," said the good old Knight, gladly, "you are doubtless right--as you always are--and I shall return to the Shades greatly solaced both by your good cheer and your good counsel!" "Sorry to lose your company so soon!" cried the Fleet Street Amphitryon. "I perceive, Dr. SYNTAX, that your old grey mare, _Grizzle_, awaits you at the door. '_Vale! O Vale!_' _You_ ride pillion-wise, Sir ROGER, I suppose. Well, to cheer your journey, brighten the Shades, and reassure ye both as to the safety of the New Village under the guidance of the Old Counseller, take with ye my One Hundred and Seventh Volume!!" [Illustration] * * * * * PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 107. JULY 7, 1894. [Illustration: MR. PUNCH AT WHITE LODGE, RICHMOND. "DON'T MAKE A NOISE, OR ELSE YOU'LL WAKE THE BABY"] * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. About the reminiscences of GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA there lingers a before-the-Flood flavour which abashes my Baronite. In _Things I have Seen, and People I have Known_, two volumes, published by CASSELL, there is nothing merely modern. The only thing G. A. S. doesn't appear to have seen was the world in the state of chaos, and almost solitary among the people he has not known was METHUSELAH. That is an illusion due to the art of the writer, for, as a matter of fact, his recollections commence in the year 1839, when he was a boy at school in Paris, snubbed, fillipped, tweaked, punched, and otherwise maltreated, by way of avenging Waterloo in his person, and redressing the petty injuries inflicted upon NAPOLEON at St. Helena by SIR HUDSON LOWE. MR. SALA has not only lived long, but, like ULYSSES, has travelled much, and has had singular good fortune in being around when things were stirring. Thus, for example, in the year 1840, as he happened to be strolling down the Rue de la Paix, he saw a carriage draw up at a jeweller's shop, escorted by a troop of shining cuirassiers. In it were two handsomely-dressed ladies, "in cottage bonnets, with side-ringlets." There was also a Norman peasant-woman, and in her lap reposed a greatly glorified baby. One of the ladies was the Duchesse D'ORLEANS, Consort of the Heir Apparent, and the bundle of pink flesh was the Comte de PARIS, who seemed at the time to have nothing to do but to grow up to man's estate, and take his place among the kings of France. Sixteen years later, in the Rue de Rivoli, MR.