"scene," which I understood the mildly-spoken gentleman to declare to be "an unseemly altercation," and officers of the institution in uniform were introduced. The aggressive person continued his aggressiveness, and claimed to be the Champion Shaver of a large territory including (I think) both the inhabited and uninhabited portions of the globe. Then a gentleman in morning dress, connected with the Management appeared, and we were all requested politely to leave. I followed with the crowd, for I had an idea (no doubt it was a foolish fancy) that if I had not I should have been "chucked out." I spent the rest of the evening in admiring a lady who claimed to be one of the strongest women, if not the very strongest woman in the world, and wondering why, before having a cannon fired off, from the support of her shoulder, she should think it necessary to wave the British flag and appear in the costume of BRITANNIA. The Lord Mayor's Procession was also a "Show," and a very important Show of the week. It has been so fully described that it requires only a passing notice. The cars on their return were more pleasing than on their first appearance, for when seen with the horses' heads turned westwards the poor creatures, engaged to grace our London holiday, were shivering in the heavy downpour. Even Father Thames (who should have been in his element) seemed dissatisfied. When dismissed at the Royal Courts, and told they might make the best of their way home, the thinly-clad representatives of Music, Prosperity, and Commerce, were allowed to assume shawls and wraps, and other protections from the weather. Why before starting were they not all supplied with umbrellas? It is true that BRITANNIA would have looked a little incongruous with a _parapluie_.--I put this in French in honour of the Brave Beige Mi Lor DE KEYSER,--but, on the other hand, she did not seem _much_ like England without one. The Show was like all its predecessors, inasmuch as it served once more as an excuse for a subsequent luncheon party in pleasant company, and again afforded the populace a glimpse of the LORD MAYOR and Corporation in their not very frequently assumed characters of the wealthy Unemployed. * * * * * Strictly Private. (_From Mr. Secretary B-LF-R._) STOKES! STOKES! No more of your jokes, In sending O'BRIEN to gaol. For what we're to do, With _him_--all through you-- Is a puzzle; you've shown _trop de zèle_. * * * * * More Reminiscences. We've scarcely done _with_ Our bright Mister FRITH, When out comes a dollop By T. DOLLY TROLLOPE * * * * * PROFESSORS OF THE "DECORATIVE" ARTS.--General CAFFAREL and Madame LIMOUSIN. * * * * *