_Monday._--Curious what a lot of human beings have come to the water's edge to-day. What's going to happen? St. James's Park crammed with them. We don't mind, of course. The more loafers, the more bits of loaf and biscuit for _us_. Immense amount of quacking going on, too, up at Spring Gardens. What _can_ it all mean? _Tuesday._--Headache. My liver must have gone wrong, I fancy, as a result of yesterday's unusual supply of eatables. What stale biscuits some people do chuck into the water! Those hard crusts, too, _don't_ agree with me. Same crowd as yesterday. They seem to be waiting for something. Ask a goose what's going on. Goose says, "Dinner," and gobbles up a biscuit. Stupid creature! _Wednesday._--Appetite all right again--but must be careful. Fortunately can pick and choose _now_. Won't look at a crust. Inclined to insist on fancy bread. Friendly wild-fowl says just the same crowd waiting round Serpentine, _which has been emptied_. Will they empty _us?_ _Thursday._--They will! No doubt about it. Level steadily sinking. Crowd as usual. None of us will touch anything under a bath bun. What a slimy place we _do_ seem to live in, now it's being uncovered! Where's the inspector of nuisances, I wonder? _Friday._--Water off! What'll be the next move? Offered a Huntley and Palmer with no sugar on it! Scandalous! _Saturday._--More quacking at Spring Gardens. Then a sort of procession down to the banks by members of the L. C. C. Ask goose what a member of the L. C. C. means. Goose says "Quack!" Idiotic bird. Water really coming in now. Hurrah! Sure to be fresh, anyhow. Have my first dive. How my eyes smart! What funny water it is! Taste some. Why,--_it's salt!_ Just wondering what this means, when a man comes along, claps me into a hamper with all my relations, and takes me off to Leadenhall Market--so he calls it. Told that the L. C. C. has filled all the park ponds with sea-water! No more use for _us_--going to have a lot of sea-gulls instead. What treachery! (_Later._) Sold. * * * * * SOUNDING THE ANTITOXIN! (_See Dr. Robson Roose's excellent article on "The Spread of Diphtheria" in the Fortnightly Review for December, 1894._) The _Antitoxin_ sounds! "And what the doose Is Antitoxin?" cries the reader, lightly. But he'll not chaff if he reads ROBSON ROOSE Upon Diphtheria in the new _Fortnightly_. There he'll learn how the "Antitoxic serum" Attacks _bacilli_ with a view to queer 'em. The _Antitoxin_ sounds to a new war On diphtheritic microbes, which are rum 'uns; And Doctor ROOSE, perched on Hygeia's car, Rides forth in battle-rig to spread the summons. Ah! the old conquerors were mere death-dealers, But greatest of Earth's heroes are the healers!