If you have reason to suspect a gun of being unloaded, make sure by firing at your friend's head. If you find Him and Her _tête-à-tête_, join the little party. This will show a sympathetic nature, and take all the awkwardness out of the situation. If you are a woman, always flop down in a smoking-carriage, without noticing the obvious label and the looks of the occupants. When made aware of the situation, say, "Oh, I don't mind smoking," and consider the question solved. If a man, select carefully a compartment in which Two Young People are ostentatiously trying to look as if they don't find their own company quite sufficient for a journey of any duration. If you are hurrying for a train, and want an easy, always slacken just as you catch another person up, and walk close behind him, panting and puffing till you are ready for another spurt. Always read, or recite, your compositions to your friends. Believe them when they protest they would really like you to do so. Engage in serious argument with a woman with whom you wish to be on really good terms--a rich relation for choice. Always curse the waiters if the cook has failed in his treatment of your chop or steak. Always act contrary to the directions in crowded places of public interest. This shows an imperial spirit, and will make you, for the time, an object of general interest. Always stay to the very end on any occasion when you have been invited at the last moment. Always talk loud, and, as far as possible, always talk about yourself. * * * * * FROM A CORRESPONDENT.--"Sir,--Seeing the advertisement of a book entitled _Poets on Poets_, I should much like to know what has become of a once much-quoted work entitled _Pelion on Ossa?_ Who was 'Pelion'? and what did 'Ossa' write?--Yours, T. NOODELLE." * * * * * FIRST IMPRESSIONS. Pisa, placid Pisa, only awakened at half-past eleven by the rushing tourist who traverses your sleepy streets. By the half-past two train he starts afresh, and leaves you to doze as peacefully as before. My train arrives with amazing punctuality, and I reach the hotel earlier than was ever known; 11.35 A.M., and apparently nobody up yet. The _vetturino_ loudly cracks his whip, but, to no purpose. Suddenly I notice some electric bell-pushes. Ring one. Ring another. Finally, ring them all. Then at last rushes out an elegant gentleman, probably the manager, who excitedly endeavours to speak, and to apologise, in four languages at once. Reduce him to calmness, and to two languages, with a few words from a third thrown in occasionally, and demand _déjeuner_. Another delay. The elegant gentleman does not explain; but evidently the cook is still asleep, and the waiters only just up. But at last I am served, and excellently too, and go off to see the sights.