Among the handiest of handy books must be included the Pocket Diaries for 1888, numbered, respectively, one, two, three,--of which No. 3 is "A1,"--brought out by JOHN WALKER & CO. of Farringdon House, and admirably adapted to all walkers, who can now bring them out for themselves every day in the new year. One novelty there is in WALKER & CO.'S division of pages, and this is that two are set apart for "Addresses"--not political ones, of course--and two others for "Visits"--(such an idea could only have struck a Walker who wanted an object for his walk)--these being subdivided into columns headed "_Name_," "_Reception Day_," "_Visit Received_," "_Visit Returned_," which in itself is quite a little manual, or _Walker's Dictionary_, of politeness. To "Cash" is devoted a great deal too much space; but, of course, if there is sufficient cash to fill it, so much the better. If we might suggest a "rider" to WALKER, it would be that, as many persons, who pay nothing else, are often most assiduous in "paying their addresses" and in "paying visits," an equal space might be given to business as represented by "Cash," and to pleasure as represented by the two other items. The pencil is a triumph of ingenuity, and the binding of No. 3 proves the truth of the old adage, that there is nothing like leather, specially when the leather is Russian. * * * * * HUMILITY.--The _Pall Mall Gazette_, in its account of the consecration of Truro Cathedral, stated how-- "The Archbishop of CANTERBURY and the Bishop of TRURO received the Prince of WALES at the Phillpotts porch, and conducted His Royal Highness to a footstool placed for him in the choir. Every available inch of space was crowded." Poor Royal Highness! only a "footstool" to sit upon. He was His Royal Lowness on this occasion. If, however, for "footstool" we read "faldstool," His Royal Highness's apparently uncomfortable position becomes intelligible. * * * * * MORE REALISM. DEAR MR. PUNCH, [Illustration] Will you not help us to make a stand even now against the encroachments of realism in the pronunciation of Latin? My evening paper has been full of it lately. Why, Sir, it is well known that the Britons understood the Romans, and the Romans the Britons, and if the Romans had said their repetition in the absurd foreign fashion that a few modern-side pedants advocate, is it likely that the Britons would have understood them, much less that they would have had so much respect for them as to admit their garrisons, and their Mayors, and their Corporations, and what not for four or five hundred years? And if our early ancestors had spoken Latin in this eminently unmanly un-English fashion, why should we naturally and instinctively pronounce it in our own way now, as if there were no natural piety linking the chapters of our rough island story together?