However, there is just one matter for which I have to thank him. I confess that my face werry possibly turned gashly pale as I read his orful letter, I fornatrally thort if he is going to recommend less Cooks he may werry posserbly be a going for to recommend less Waiters! But no, he had the good taste to draw his line there, and for that I thanks him. What a treat it is to turn from the wild projecks of the Lecterer to the wise counsels of the Alderman. No doubt, he says, we could all do without luxuries, but what would become of the millions who produces them? No doubt, he says, we could all live on plain food and drink water--what orful words for a Alderman to write down!--but then what would become of the millions who earns their living in preparing them, and he might have added, as a clencher to his staggering argument, and what would become of Hus? If there is one picter that presents itself to my orrified imagination, that more than any other staggers it, it is that of the hole splendid Army of London Waiters, with their full dress black coats a gitting jist a leetle shabby, and their lovely white chokers jest a leetle shady, a parading the London Streets, and a singing in Chorus, "We've got no work to do!" But no, I feels as that orful dream will never live to be realised, but, to use the classic langwidge as the Lecturer quotes from some frend of his, and which I supposes as he intends as a complement, "let the idol rich still take their proper place as drones in the hive, gorging at a feast to which they have contributed nothing," and he might have added, and never never forgetting the Waiter. ROBERT. * * * * * [Illustration] MR. PUNCH was pleased to notice that a certain noisy Salvationist, who would insist on playing the cornet--did he profanely call it "The horn of salvation?"--to the disturbance of quiet citizens, was made to move on, and treated as a common street-organ nuisance by the Magistrate. Wanted, as soon as possible, an Act to stop all unauthorised Processions, be they what they may. *** The disastrous fire at WHITELEY'S occupied the entire attention of thirty-four steam fire-engines, "leaving," says the _Standard_, "about a dozen for the rest of London." The "rest" of London will be considerably disturbed if this state of things continues. We are under-police'd and under-fire-brigaded. If GRANDOLPH the Great is afraid of becoming one of the Unemployed, and so getting into mischief, let him turn his attention to supply and demand in this direction, and the ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer may do some good. * * * * * [Illustration: THE NOT-AT-ALL-AT-HOME SECRETARY. _Mr. General-Inspector Punch._ "NOW THEN, MATT, MOVE ON! DON'T INTERFERE WITH THE POLICE IN THE EXECUTION OF THEIR DUTY."