DEAR MR. PUNCH,--As we are within measurable distance of the time when everyone will be thinking of going abroad, perhaps you will allow me to make a practical suggestion. No doubt you will have observed that, according to the Correspondent of the _Times_, recounting the "recent railway outrage in Turkey," the Brigands "chose five of the most opulent-looking of their victims, and told them that they meant to hold them to ransom." I am not surprised at this occurrence, for something of the same sort once happened to me. I am very well to do, and I am fond of what I believe is vulgarly called "globe-trotting." I do not care to be encumbered with too much luggage, and if there is a thorn to the rose of my sweet content it is the objection that my wife makes to my personal appearance. She will have it that a suit of thoroughly comfortable dittos is not the proper garb for a stroll on the Boulevards des Italiens, or a lounge on the Piazza San Marco. As for my wide-awake, she declares (and I can assure you that I have not had it for more than ten years) it is absolutely disgraceful! But to my story. I have said that I myself was once attacked by Brigands. Our train was stopped in strictly regulation fashion. I believe the customary number of engine-drivers, stokers, and guards were shot, or otherwise accounted for. Then the passengers were inspected. I was rather nervous, for, truth to tell, my pockets were lined with untold gold and notes. The Chief of the Brigands--a most gentlemanly person--glanced at my coat with a slight shudder of pain, and then raised his eyes to my head-gear. That seemed to satisfy him. "Set him free!" he cried to the two ruffians who guarded me, "and never let him see me again!" I never did! Yours sincerely, ONE WHO WAS SAVED BY HIS HAT, _The Retreat, Old Closeborough._ * * * * * [Illustration: A POLITICAL MILITARY TOURNAMENT.] * * * * * THE BUSMEN'S ALPHABET.