Turn back. Why not go to a theatre? Certainly. Go to four in succession, and find them all closed! Well, good way of wasting time, Shall I visit one of the Exhibitions? Chelsea or Earl's Court? After consideration, come to the conclusion that this would be worse than doing nothing. Must draw the line somewhere! After all, there is no place like home. Or shall I go to my Club? Yes. Get there. Find it is being repaired, and that the members are taken in somewhere else. Hate new scenes and new faces. Return to my first idea, and make for my private address; but feel that it may be rather dull, as my wife and the children are at the seaside. Still, somebody can get me a little supper. At least, I hope so. Find my latch-key is of no use, on account of the chain being up. Ring angrily, when a charwoman in a bonnet appears, and explains that the servants, not expecting me home so early, have gone to the play, having locked up the larder. Charwoman agrees with me that it is disgraceful--especially the locking up of the larder. However, it can't be helped. Make up my mind to go to bed, and get fast asleep, thoroughly tired out with the labours of a day spent in doing absolutely nothing! Hope (in my dreams) that Dr. MORTIMER GRANVILLE will be satisfied! * * * * * "OUR CHILDREN'S EARS." Whether they'll be as long as those of Midas, Or stand out salient from either side as A close-cropped ARRY's, at right angles set To his flat jowl, we cannot settle, yet; But in one thing, at least, a score they'll chalk-- They will not hear the stuff their fathers talk! * * * * * DEFINITION.--"_La haute Cuisine_"--the kitchen on the top flat of a ten-storey'd mansion. * * * * * [Illustration: AN INSINUATING WHISPER. 'JUST LOOK, LAURA! WHAT A LOVELY LITTLE DOG THAT OLD GENTLEMAN'S GOT! HOW I WISH HE WAS MINE!" 'SHALL OI _GIT_ 'IM FOR YER, LYDY?"] * * * * * "HAVE WE FORGOTTEN GORDON?" [Lord TENNYSON, under this heading, writes appealing to Englishmen for subscriptions to the funds of the "Gordon Boys' Home" at Woking, which is in want of £40,000. Contributions should be sent to the Treasurer, General Sir DIGHTON PROBYN, V.C., Marlborough House, Pall Mall.] Are we sleeping? "_Have_ we forgotten?" Like the thrust of an Arab spear Comes that conscience-piercing-question from the Singer of Haslemere. Have we indeed forgotten the hero we so be-sang, When across the far south sand-wastes the news of his murder rang? Forgotten? So it had seemed to him, as alone afar he lay, With the Nile to watch for laggard friends, fierce foes to hold at bay; Though the tired red lines toiled onward up the Cataracts, and we Dreamed of the shout of the rescuing host _his_ eyes should never see.