Observe the eye of HAVELOCK-ALLAN on the alert. He cannot see behind his back, but instinctively knows there is an Irish Member in the vicinity. His teeth close, his moustache curls, his eyes glare. He once publicly, in course of debate, sat upon an Irish Member; not metaphorically, but physically. Irish Member, when he wriggled from under, appealed to SPEAKER on point of order. SPEAKER ruled proceeding decidedly out of order. "But I sat on him, TOBY, dear boy," HAVELOCK said, triumphantly; "and I shall retain the impression to end of my life." [Illustration: THE GRAND OLD GARDENER.] [Illustration: Sir H. Havelock-Allan.] [Illustration: A.A. Baumann.] "So will he," I observed, when HAVELOCK was safe out of hearing. He doesn't like retorts. The sketch of BAUMANN evidently taken at the moment he heard the announcement of poll at North Salford. Seems to have knocked him rather of a heap. Was known in House as Cupid's Bowman; a smart able, useful Member, whom we shall all be glad to see back again. * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. [Illustration: A Poppylar Writer in Poppy Land.] "'Over the Hills and far away!' follow yours faithfully CLEMENT SCOTT." This is the full title, and signed advice to the public given on the frontispiece of his little shilling book published by EGLINTON. It is dedicated to Sir EDWARD LAWSON--"right thing to do my boy!"--and appropriately so, as if the Baron's memory runneth not to the contrary, most if not all the articles in this author's little holiday-book have appeared at some time or other in the _D.T._, and do not suffer any D.T.rioration by being bound up together in this shilling volume. It tells of a visit to Hayling, where he picked up health, strength, and an aspirate, when he went there ailing; he tells of Suffolk, where a branch of the Great Punchian Family is settled, known as The Suffolk Punches; he prattles of _Honeymoon Land_, where he met the man with seven wives, each of whom had a cat, and to each cat there was a kit, and to each wife a kit too, it is to be hoped, in the shape otherwise of a _trousseau_, and of many other pleasant restful places and refreshing jaunts he tells delightfully. "But of all the pleasant places in which his lines have fallen, commend me," quoth the Baron,--"and the lines he has written will send many to these pleasant places--(But O the Trippers!)--of all these give me the _Flower Farm at Holy Vale_ and the _Valley of Ferns_." If the reader cannot go to all the sweet resorts herein mentioned, let him be induced by the first article to visit _Holy Vale_, and he will find CLEMENT SCOTT an admirable guide for "the Scilly Season." Of course our NOT-YET-DUN-SCOTUS hath visited the Cyril-Flower-Farm on the Norfolk Coast. Advice: Stand not on the money-order of your going, but go at once, and stop there. As to money, remember your Uncle dwells in Poppy Land, quoth their true friend, THE TRAVELLED BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.