Several prominent authors having stated that their best ideas come to them while taking a tub, quite a number of unsuccessful scribes have, we hear, almost made up their minds to the experiment of one bath a week. *** In an Introductory Note to the serial publication of _The Woman Thou Gavest Me_, entitled "Why I wrote the Story," the Master attempts to shift the blame--or, anyhow, to apportion the responsibility. One day, it seems, Mr. CAINE heard the story which forms the basis of the novel. He first told it to a Cabinet Minister, who was "visibly touched." He next tried it on a tailor, who was "just as obviously affected." Then comes this delicious passage:--"After that I called on my publisher and, not being able to get the story out of my thoughts, I told it to him as well. His eyes filled, his head dropped, and he was as deeply touched as I and the tailor and the Cabinet Minister had been." It is generally understood that Mr. HEINEMANN has since had a complete recovery. * * * * * LOOKING WELL FORWARD. [Illustration: _First Survivor from Wreck_ (_to Second Survivor_.) "'Ow much ought we to ask off the music-'alls when we get back--'undred-an'-fifty quid a week or two 'undred?"] * * * * * "Owing to the number of rats and crickets in her bedroom a nurse employed by the Dudley Board of Guardians, it was stated at the meeting of the board yesterday, had resigned. "It was decided to engage a professional rat-catcher."--_Daily Mail._ It is, however, not altogether satisfactory to be nursed by a professional rat-catcher, and some of the patients are already complaining most bitterly of the change. * * * * * THE HAT. "Of course," said the lady of the house, "you can turn yourself into a hermit if you like. We'll build you a little cell, and----" "What?" I said. "A real hermit, in a long robe like a bath-gown? With a real cell, and a dish of herbs on a plain deal table, and some rocks to sleep on, and a folio volume always open at the same place? May I really be like that?" "Yes," she said, "that's what you're coming to. And there'll be a notice stuck up on a tree--'This way to the Hermit,' with a painted hand." "I know the sort," I said. "A hand with only one finger." "Yes, one finger pointing in the direction of the cell. And all the village children will follow you when you go out, and you'll threaten them with a gnarled stick, and you'll be indicted as a nuisance." "But not for a long time," I said. "I shall have lots of good hermiting before that happens. I shall have my breakfasts quite alone and nobody will ask me to go to Mrs. Latimer's musical afternoon in London, 4 to 7." "Well, you're not a hermit yet, so you'll have to come to Mrs. Latimer's with me. You know you'll enjoy it when you get there." "I won't." "And you'll meet plenty of your friends."