"The Prime Minister has been in favour again. What was a virtue in May ought of this conference once, and he may be so not to be a crime for us in August."--_Daily Dispatch_. The Stockholm atmosphere appears to be fatal to clearness of statement. * * * * * SUAVITER IN MODO. Profound stillness reigned in the wardroom of H.M.S. _Sinister_, broken only by the low tones of the Paymaster and the First Lieutenant disputing over the question of proportional representation and by the snores of the Junior Watchkeeper, stretched inelegantly on the sofa. The rest of the occupants were in the coma induced by all-night coaling. Into this haven of quiet burst the ship's Doctor in a state of exaggerated despair. He groaned and, sinking into a chair, mopped his forehead ostentatiously. The disputants ceased their discussion and watched him intently as though he were some performing animal. "Gentlemen," said the Paymaster presently in tones of sepulchral gloom, "the neophyte of ÆSCULAPIUS, to whose care the inscrutable wisdom of Providence has entrusted our lives, is being excruciatingly funny. Number One says it is belated remorse for the gallant servants of His Majesty whom he has consigned to an untimely grave." "Poor jesting fool," said his victim, "little he knows that even now Heaven has prepared a punishment fitted even to his crimes. I have seen it--nay, I have spoken with it." "Suppose," intervened the Commander, "that you postpone this contest of wits and let us have your news." "Certainly, Sir," acquiesced the Doctor. "It's Pay's new assistant. He's ..." the Doctor paused in search of adequate expression, "he's here. He is, I fancy, at this moment slapping the skipper on the back and asking him to have a drink. He called me 'old socks.'" The doctor shuddered. "Then he said he expected this was some mess; Naval messes were always hot stuff. He wanted to spin me yarns of his infant excesses, but I choked him off by telling him he ought to report to the skipper. You'll have to look after him, Pay. That will give you some honest work for a change." It must be confessed that at lunch the newcomer justified the Doctor's worst forebodings. Afterwards the First Lieutenant and the Paymaster had an earnest colloquy. Then the latter sought his new assistant; he found him gloomily turning over the pages of a six-months-old illustrated paper. "What do you think of the ship?" he asked cheerfully. "Rotten slow lot," replied the A.P.; "I tried to make things hum a bit at lunch and they all sat looking like stuffed owls." "Ah, you'll find it different this evening after the Commander has gone. Bad form to tell smoking-room yarns while he's here." Meanwhile the First Lieutenant visited the Commander in his cabin. "Very well," said the latter on parting; "only mind, no unnecessary violence." "I understand, Sir. I hope it won't be necessary."