Lytham is troubled. I read that "the musical attractions at the Pier Pavilion have been fairly patronised, and dancing on the pier is to be resumed." This latter attraction, it appears, has not met with the entire approval of the Lytham people, who contend that it will bring Lytham into disrepute. "The Ratepayers' Association have had the matter under consideration, and have disclaimed any connection with the innovation. The directors, however, have had the question under discussion, and have decided to continue the dancing." * * * * * Said the pier-man to the tourist, "Lo, the tide is flowing free; Won't you come and join the dancers in our Temple by the sea? See how mazily the Harries and the Harriets advance, Will you won't you, will you won't you, won't you join the dance? "We have cornets, flutes and fiddles, and we always play in time, And the triangles at intervals triangularly chime. Hark, the bold bassoon is booming, every dancer gets a chance, Come and trip it, pretty tourist, in our gay Pavilion dance." But the tourist paused a moment; then addressed the pier-man, "Brute, Such proceedings bring poor Lytham into awful disrepute, Besides, I'm here for pleasure, and I do not want to prance. As the rest of them are doing, in your gay _al fresco_ dance." And the ratepayers considered it, and angrily replied, "There is another shore, you know, upon the other side: Take your dancers far from England, take them bodily to France; We disclaim the least connection, and we will not join your dance." * * * * * I note from a correspondence in _The Scotsman_ that a considerable amount of feeling has been aroused by the erection of the new North British Railway Hotel in Princes Street. Lord WEMYSS, apparently, has declared not only that it will spoil the view, but also that it will "pierce the vault of heaven." Another correspondent adds that it will have "a Jennerised, unreposeful front." That ought to settle the matter at once. Someone else complains of "those terrible advertisements of drugs and fluid beef which extend in gigantic letters along the side of the lower part of the Carlton Hill, and which catch the unwilling eye of anyone looking from the Bridges, from the Mound, and indeed from any part of the Old Town." What with advertisements of drugs and fluid beef, and a new hotel possessing a Jennerised, unreposeful front, obviously Edinburgh is in a bad way. * * * * *