NOT for the first time, and not for the last, _Mr. Punch_ asks, where is The Public Prosecutor? Why is it that the observations of Mr. Justice BUTT and Sir HENRY HAWKINS are disregarded? Very much "for the public benefit" was the sentence of one year's imprisonment passed on the journalist who, without one tittle of trustworthy evidence, attempted to blast the character of an innocent man. But is it not still more for the public benefit that professional perjurers, suborners of witnesses, and fabricators of false evidence--the suborners first and foremost--should be publicly proceeded against, and treated with the utmost rigour of the law? WINSER, the cabman, who gave his false evidence so gaily in the Thirkettle Case, has been had up, and sentenced. Having dealt with WINSER, it is only a short step from WINSER to SLOUGH--but perhaps such a slough of muck, that it wants the pluck of a Hercules in the Augaean stable to commence operations, and a _deus ex-machina_--that is, the Public Prosecutor from the Treasury--to see that the proceedings are not abortive. Oh, where, and Oh, where is The Public Prosecutor? * * * * * STATESMEN AT HOME. DCXLII. THE MARQUIS OF SALISBURY, K.G., AT HATFIELD HOUSE. [Illustration] ARRIVING at the Great Northern Station at King's Cross, and desirous of testing the culture of the clerk at the Booking-office, you ask for a first-class return for Hetfelle. The clerk mechanically puts out his hand towards the receptacle for tickets, drops it, stares at you, and says Hetfelle is not on their line. You insist that it must be, being clearly set forth in _Domesday Book_. The clerk shows a disposition to speak alliteratively but disrespectfully of _Domesday_, and, as the crowd presses at your heels, you yield to modern prejudice, and take your ticket for Hatfield. Still, you have the satisfaction of knowing that it was _Hetfelle_ when the Abbey of Ely held it by favour of King EDGAR. When Ely was made a bishopric, the Bishops lived at _Hetfelle_, which presently came to be known as Bishops Hatfield, and a sumptuous palace was built, that housed in turn a son of EDWARD THE THIRD, and the son and heir of HENRY THE EIGHTH. The latter Prince coming to the throne, under the title of EDWARD THE SIXTH, he gave Hatfield to his sister, the Princess ELIZABETH. When, in due time, you arrive at Hatfield, your host takes you out, leading you by the stately avenue to show you the oak under which ELIZABETH was sitting, reading Greek, when news came to her that MARY was dead, and ELIZABETH reigned in her stead. "_La reine est morte; Vive la reine!_" you opportunely remark. "Quite so," says the MARKISS, evidently struck by your readiness of rejoinder.