DEAR SIR, I shall not write a line to-day, Though many subjects merit my attention. To take one instance only, there is May (The month) at present in her last declension. Lord, what a dance she leads us on her May-toes, And spoils the beans and ruins the potatoes. The gloomy gardener stands and counts the cost, His once proud thoughts to sheer depression turning. Darkly he marks the intempestive frost, Though the laburnum still keeps on laburning, And though the rose renews her ancient story And bursts her bonds and blazes in her glory. No, Sir, I shall not write a single line, Not though the Tories storm with angry lips which Salute the serried ranks of the combine With shouts of "'journ, 'journ, 'journ" or howls for Ipswich. These do not stir me, and I see, unheeding, The Home Rule Bill receive its hundredth reading. As for my dogs, at any other time-- One is a massive hound and three are particles-- They might provoke a stave or two of rhyme, Or shine in prose and be described in articles. But, if I owned the swift melodious Meynell, To-day I would not write about my kennel. The woes of butlers and the ways of cooks, The contumely of wives, the scorn of daughters; Golf, too, and tennis, or reviews of books; Breezes and bees and trees and rippling waters, All these are writable, but I, Sir, shun them-- Take thirty lines: I've been and gone and done them! R. C. L. * * * * * ALL SQUARE. "A BANKER'S business," the cashier explained, "is to borrow money from one customer and lend it to another." I smiled an innocent smile. "To me, for instance," I suggested. "No, not to you. The general state of your account does not warrant an overdraft." I bowed respectfully and promised to be careful. As a matter of fact it has been extremely difficult. They keep a little book which tells them exactly how much I have got left. At the end of last year it was 2_s._6_d._ Until the beginning of this month I let it stand at that; then I grew restive and ordered a new cheque-book. The cashier's eyes glistened as he handed it over. "Thirty, I suppose," he said sarcastically. I thanked him and withdrew. Half-a-crown aside; balance nothing. Yesterday I went in and wrote out a cheque. Meanwhile the cashier disappeared into the back regions. Perhaps he went to make sure how I stood, but I am certain he knew all the time. On his return the cheque was ready. "I'm just off for a tour round the world," I said. "You might take care of this till I come back," and I handed him the cheque-book. Then I drew out two shillings and fivepence. * * * * * ANOTHER INFORMATION BUREAU. TO-DAY'S PROBLEMS AND THE REPLIES TO THEM. THE COST OF ENNOBLEMENT.--A LOVER OF ART.--A VERY NATURAL INQUIRY.--THE OAKS.--A REMARKABLE OLD MASTER.--A DELICATE TRIAL OF TACT.--OLD BOOKS.--MR. KIPLING. THE COST OF ENNOBLEMENT.