"DEAR WILLIAM,--I am not, as I think I said, at all well, and my doctor considers I had better break the journey at Plymouth, as it is a long way from Malvern to Cornwall. Would you recommend me some hotels to choose from? I hope to start by the middle of the month ..." I recommended hotels, and on the 12th heard from him again:-- "DEAR WILLIAM,--I am very obliged to you. In this severe weather my doctor says that I cannot be too careful, and I doubt if I shall be able to start for ten days or so. Has your house a south aspect, and is it far from the sea? I require air but not wind. And could you tell me ..." I told him all right, though as a guest I began to think him a little _exigeant_. But he was unwell. On the 17th he answered me:-- "DEAR WILLIAM,--I understand you live _quite_ in the country. Would you tell me whether a doctor lives near to you and whether you have a chemist within reasonable distance? My doctor, who really understands my case, won't hear of my starting until the wind changes: but I hope ..." I drew a map showing my house, the nearest chemist's shop, the doctor's surgery and a few other points of interest, such as Land's End and the Lizard. This I sent to him, and on the 22nd he replied:-- "DEAR WILLIAM,--I acknowledge your map with many thanks. There is one more thing. My doctor insists on a very special diet. Can your cook make porridge? I rely very largely on porridge for breakfast and ..." I saw myself smiling at Lord DEVONPORT and wired back, "Have you ever known a cook who couldn't make porridge?" And on the 27th he issued his ultimatum:-- "DEAR WILLIAM,--I have consulted my doctor and he thinks I ought not to tempt Providence by travelling at present, so I have decided to remain in Malvern. I do hope ..." To this I replied:-- "DEAR WIGGLES,--Holding as you do the old pagan view of Providence, you are quite right not to tempt it. The loss is mine. I hope you will soon be rather less unwell." Then I went away for three days without leaving an address, and when I returned it was to learn that Wiggles had arrived on the previous evening. And in my study I found him, together with four wires (two to say he wasn't coming and two to say he was) and a table loaded with prescriptions. He eats enormously. * * * * * INKOMANIA. (_Suggested by Mr. SIMONIS' recently published volume._) O Street of Ink, O Street of Ink, Where printers and machinsts swink Amid the buzz and hum and clink; By night one cannot sleep a wink, There is no time to stop or think, One half forgets to eat or drink, One's brains are knotted in a kink, One always lives upon the brink Of "happenings" that strike one pink. One day the dollars gaily chink, The next your funds to zero shrink. And yet I'm such a perfect ninc- Ompoop I cannot break the link That binds me to the Street of Ink. * * * * *