"An Old BOOTS!" cried my better seven-eighths, becoming as excited as myself. "Why, our fortunes are made! An Old BOOTS! Oh, why didn't you tell me! An Old BOOTS! Fancy having an Old BOOTS!" "But we haven't," I returned, almost in tears. "The handy-man has gone off with it! What _are_ we to do without our Old BOOTS!" "We will get it back!" returned my better and more important fraction, with determination. Whether we did recover our lost treasure, or fail in the attempt, must, owing to the exigencies of space (so I am given to understand), form the subject of another and concluding contribution. The chase after our Old BOOTS was not without adventures of a distinctly exciting character. * * * * * [Illustration] MY PETTY JAYNE![*] AIR--"_My Pretty Jane._" My JAYNE, my JAYNE, my Bishop JAYNE, O never, never more be sly, You'll meet, you'll meet with no green even in This correspondent's eye. "Charge, CHESTER, charge." Do what you th-i-nk Your di-o-cese will stand. But do not, do not stain with i-n-k Your Gothenburgian hand. So JAYNE, my JAYNE, my petty JAYNE, O never, never more be sly. You'll meet, you'll meet with no green even in This correspondent's eye. [Footnote: * See recent letters and article in _Times_ within the last fortnight.] * * * * * "TO ROME FOR SIXTEEN GUINEAS."--The travellers, it is announced, will be "lectured by the Bishop of PETERBOROUGH and Mr. OSCAR BROWNING." What a delightful prospect for a pleasant trip! Fancy being lectured all the way as to what to eat, drink, and avoid, on comportment and deportment, on smoking, on registration of baggage, on economy, etc., etc., by a Bishop and one of the OSCAR'S. O what a time they will have of it! * * * * * BONNIE W. G. A SONG OF THE SNOWY SOUTH. ["'We were caught in a snowdrift' was Mr. GLADSTONE'S explanation. 'In Scotland they would have cleared it away in no time, but here they are not accustomed to deal with snow;' and, with upright bearing, and carrying a travelling rug which he refused to give up to a servant, he marched out of the station with a springy gait."--_Central News Telegram from Cannes._] [Illustration] AIR--"_Bonnie Dundee._" To our own G. O. M. 'twas the doctor who spoke; "You'd better get out of our frost, fog, and smoke. You are now eighty-five, though a wonder you be; So follow the sun, bonnie W. G.! Come flit from cold Hawarden, and fly off to Cannes, The sunny South calls you, our own Grand Old Man! Take the first _train de luxe_, and be off, fair and free, To RENDEL and roses, dear W. G.!"