At dinner sat between two charming women, evidently as clever as they were beautiful. Suddenly remembered that we "lose the subtle and fine flavours of our best dishes, because we consider ourselves obliged to converse with somebody," and after that did not speak a word. Charming women stared, and then each turned towards me a beautiful shoulder, and I saw her face no more. Was just enjoying the flavours when I recollected that nothing "can make even tolerable, artistically speaking, the sight of men and women sitting bolt upright close together taking their soup." We were long past the soup, but it was not too late. I left the table at once, and reclined elegantly on the floor, with my plate by my side. "AUGUSTUS," said my Aunt, "are you ill?" I shook my head; I could not speak, for I was just enjoying an unusually subtle flavour. Then one of the guests, a member of my Club, whispered to my aunt, and tapped his forehead. Then she tapped her forehead, and all the guests tapped their foreheads. I had finished that flavour, so I said, "My dear Aunt, I am not mad, I----" "Then," said she, "you must be intoxicated. Leave the house!" And, with the butler and the footmen escorting me to the street-door, I was obliged to do so. It is all over. I know that my Aunt will bequeath her fortune to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Ancient Buildings among the Jews, but I am consoled by the thought that I, at least, have followed the noble teachings of the New Morality. * * * * * "WHEN FOUND MAKE A NOTE OF."--By Captain SCUTTLE, to British East African Co.:--"Your Room is better than your Company." * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. THE title of Mr. CONAN DOYLE'S new book, _Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_, is incomplete without the addition of, "And the D.D., or Dummy Doctor," who plays a part in the narratives analogous to that of "Charles, his Friend," on the stage. The book is, in many respects, a thriller, reminding one somewhat of _The Diary of a Late Physician_, by SAMUEL WARREN. This volume is handsomely got up--too handsomely--and profusely, too profusely, illustrated. For both romancer and reader, such stories are better un-illustrated. A sensational picture attracts, and distracts. In this collection the Baron can recommend _The Beryl Coronet_, _The Red-Headed League_, _The Copper Beeches_, and _The Speckled Band_. The best time for reading any one of these stories is the last thing at night, before turning in. "At such an hour, try _The Speckled Band_, and see how you like it," says the Bold Baron.