"I _do_," replied AGRICULTURA. "And I charge this pair of Pernicious Pickles with planning--and to a large extent effecting--my Destruction! Hay, Hops, Cereals, Root-Crops, Fruits and Flowers--all ruined by these roystering rascals. They've done more incurable mischief in three supposed-to-be Summer Months than those much-maligned Boys over yonder did all the Winter. They've had it all their own way the Season through, ay, as much as though they'd nailed the weathercock to S.W., and knocked out the bottom of Aquarius's water-pot. And I call upon you, O Mother of the Winds, to pop them at once into their respective Bags, sit upon them till they are choked silent and still, and then hang them up to dry--if dry such watery imps _can_--for at least six months to come!" Now whether the Mother of the Winds gave ear to the prayer of the poor Princess AGRICULTURA, and imposed upon the Two Winds the punishment they richly deserved, the sequel must show. * * * * * [Illustration: SIGNS OF BREEDING. (_Vide Correspondence in the "Daily Telegraph_.") _Little Binks agrees with Lord Byron that Breeding shews itself in the Hands, and complacently surveys his own._ "BOSH!" SAYS BLOKER. "BREEDING SHOWS ITSELF IN THE EAR, AND NOWHERE ELSE!"] * * * * * MORE MESSAGES FROM THE MAHATMA. [Illustration] 1. I am KOOT HOOMIBOOG. There are more things in my philosophy than were ever dreamed of in heaven or earth. You are POONSH. You are a Thrupni but you are not a Mahatma. Be a Mahatma, and save your postage expenses. But you must be discreet; and you must be exceeding vague. A Mahatma is nothing if he is not vague. You must also be elusive. Can you elude? It is no light matter to prove one's spiritual capacity by materialising a cigarette inside a grand piano. 2. Your reply to my letter is soulless and sceptical. How _can_ you ask me, O POONSH, what I am trying to get at? I ask nothing from you. It would be to your advantage rather than mine if you printed my poem on the Re-incarnation of Ginan Bittas, entitled _The Soul's Gooseberry Bush_. And if you will only be a Mahatma, or a disciple, I will gladly let you have the serial rights in that great work. What do you mean by saying you do not want to find cigarettes in your neighbour's piano? Think it over again, and you will see the beauty of it. You are a Thrupni, but surely you have _some_ spiritual needs. 3. You say that you do not want my poem, and you ask me if I have no further attractions to offer. I am KOOT HOOMIBOOG, and I have kept the greatest attraction for the last. If you will only join us, you _may_ find a few newspapers who will discuss you. You may see the question whether you are a fool or a knave debated in the correspondence columns. Think of the glory of it! 4. What? you won't? Well; I _am_ surprised! * * * * *