I saw many myriads of spectral kitten forms, and unsubstantial egg shapes rushing towards me through the air. Instinctively I ran indoors and gripped the umbrella from its corner, and stood on guard. [Illustration: "I saw many myriads of spectral kitten forms and unsubstantial egg-shapes."] Then I heard someone chuckling quite close to me, chuckling softly, but unmistakably. And the booing hushed, and the gloom lightened, and the garden-roller glimmered faintly in the moonlit summer night, and inside the lawn-mower lay the God of the Period crying with uncontrollable laughter. "When the time comes," he said, "when mankind gets weary of Paraded Pessimism, and the Big Scandinavian Boom has burst, then I will conjure forth the Great Guffaw; and _then_ it will be time for all Dyspeptic Decadents to get under their umbrellas--just as you did awhile ago, for mankind will have recovered its sense of humour, and will decline to take them seriously. But you had much better leave off bothering your head about that lost backbone, for you won't be happy when they get it!" And while I was taking off my goloshes indoors, I heard again the sound of snapping celery sticks, as the Period-God rolled on the bed in ecstasies of stifled merriment, and I wondered at intervals what it was all about. * * * * * FOR OUTWARD APPLICATION.--"'A man may change his skies,' as the Roman poet puts it," quoth the _Daily Telegraph_, "but he does not so easily change his habits." The Academy is about to open. The pictures will soon be hung. Varnishing day comes, with last chance for alteration. Then comes in Latin poetic proverb, "A man may change his skies, but, do what he will, he cannot alter that peculiar style that marks the work as his, and nobody else's." * * * * * NEW PROVERB.--All "problem" and no "play" makes drama a dull joy. * * * * * [Illustration: SHOCKING HEATHENISM. _Rector._ "SO YOU GO UP TO TOWN NEXT MONTH, MISS MARY. HOW I ENVY YOU! AND OF COURSE YOU'LL ATTEND THE MAY MEETINGS." _Miss Mary._ "MAY MEETINGS? OH DEAR NO! THOUGH I ADORE HORSES, I QUITE DISAPPROVE OF _RACING_, DON'T YOU KNOW!"] * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. The Baron heartily welcomes the appearance of _Happy Thoughts_ in French, under the very attractive style and title of _Fridoline_. No fear now of the _entente cordiale_ between England and France being disturbed; and that is indeed _une "pensée" la plus "heureuse" ou "ingénieuse."_ The dialogue with the patient angler who remains in the middle of the stream day after day, and, probably, night after night, is quite a little lesson in French. [Illustration: "Fridoline."] "_'Pris quelque chose?' 'Rien.' 'Pas mordu du tout?' 'Une fois, je crois.' Le pêcheur n'a pas perdu son calme, mais son air n'a rien de triomphant._"