(_The Latest Developments of the Educational Department._) "Where are we going next?" asked the Taught of the Teacher. They had just left the portals of the School Board. "To a place that should be inscribed with the words 'All hope abandon who enter here,' and which is known as the Slums," was the sad reply. The Teacher and the Taught travelled on until they were lost in a maze of workmen's buildings. "Not so very bad," commented the Taught. "Surely a man and his family might live peaceably enough in these seemingly comfortable flats." "You do not know all," said the Teacher. "Much has been done for the artisan, but the School Board have driven him to despair. Listen!" Then the two investigators heard sounds of shrieking and wailing. There was a hubbub of dreadful groans and sighs. "These are not human," cried the Taught. "They are not," was the answer. "Have you ever heard the like?" "Never. And yet I should say that the tones came from violins--played, no doubt, by imps." "No, it is not that." And then came the full explanation. "The dreadful discord to which we are listening is caused by the practice of the scholars of the School Board. The energetic youngsters are being taught at the expense of the ratepayers how to play the 'fiddle.'" * * * * * THE BRITISH BATHER. (_By a Dipper in Brittany._) [See the correspondence in the _Daily Graphic_] Mrs. GRUNDY rules the waves, With Britons for her slaves-- They're fearful to disport themselves, Unless the sexes sort themselves And take their bathing sadly, for French gaiety depraves! 'Tis time no more were seen The out-of-date "machine"; Away with that monstrosity Of prudish ponderosity-- Why can't we have the bathing tent or else the trim _cabine?_ I think we should advance If we took a hint from France, And mingled (quite decorously) On beaches that before us lie All round our coasts--we do abroad whene'er we get the chance! O'er here in St. Maló The thing's quite _comme il faut_; Why not in higher latitude? I can't make out the attitude Of those who make the British dip so "shocking," dull and slow! * * * * * LANCASHIRE riflemen who "pay their shot" at the average rate of £5 per annum for "marking," are certainly entitled to every modern improvement on their range at Altcar, and it is no wonder that there has been some grumbling at the non-introduction of canvas-targets since their invention years ago. However, this defect, we read in the _Liverpool Daily Post's_ "Volunteer Notes," will shortly be removed, and the desired innovation substituted, so that Bisley marksmen who, hitherto, indulged in sneers at the deficiencies of Altcar, must now cease making a butt of the northern range. * * * * * ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.