My "Faithful Co." informs me that he has been reading some very excellent _Sketches of England_, by a "Foreign Artist," and a "Foreign Author." The latter is no less a person than the genial representative of the _Journal des Débats_ in London, Mons. P. VILLARS. My "Co." says that, take it all round, this is one of the best books upon _La Perfide Albion_ he has ever read. Both scribe and illustrator are evidently fond of the "Foreigners" they find in the British Isles. Mons. VILLARS, however, makes one startling assertion, which has taken my "Co," by surprise. The "Foreign Author" declares that "laughter never struck his ears." Now our Monsieur is an admirable _raconteur_, and if he ever told one of his capital stories to an Englishman of average intelligence, he _must_ have heard laughter. He has also read a rather strange work called, _What will Mrs. Grundy say?_ My "Co." declares that, considering its subject, the book, which is not without merit, might be recommended as a disciplinary exercise during Lent. Says "Co. Junior," to the Baron, "Sir, I've just come across AUSTIN DOBSON and his _Four Frenchwomen_." "Hold!" cries the Baron, frowning. "No scandal." "Nay, Sir," quoth "Co. Junior," nervously. "'tis but the title of a book." "That is another thing," says the Baron, waving his hand, "proceed!" "It is about Mlle. DE CORDAY, Madame ROLAND, the Princesse DE LAMBALLE, and Madame DE GENLIS. I recommend it, Sir. _Tolle, Lege!_ "And with a bow "Co. Junior," withdraws from the presence. Quoth the Baron, "I was looking again into _Saint Monica_, just to see if I might like it any better than I did on the first occasion--which, "with me hand upon me hearrt," as Doctor O'Q. says, I cannot say I do,--when I came upon the following misprint,--"_This woman, nevertheless, worshipped him as the god of her idoltary._" It's a beautiful word, "idoltary," and so much better than the ordinary way of spelling it. So, after all, there is more in _Saint Monica_ than I had expected. In fact, its chief fault is that it is too much spun out; and, just at this time, _Saint Monica_ mustn't be associated in any sort of way with the House at Cambridge where they spin. THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. * * * * * TO A DÉBUTANTE. Fair Maiden of unclouded brow Who, gaily, 'mid the gay the gayest, To England, Home, and Duty now Oblation payest. Gay seeming,--if the milliner's Can cheer, the florist's homage sightly; And yet, unless my fancy errs, Thou shudderest slightly. Is it a sigh for childhood's bliss, A dread of what is coming, come what May matrimonially--or is It draughty somewhat? St. James's corridors are long As Art, as Life thy raiment brief is (Except the train, of course)--and strong Mamma's relief is.