"(7) No. 55,442, Procter, Mary, a member of the Q.M.A.A.C., may be correct in her statement that the article described as a 'blanket' was not a blanket, but a rug, travelling. She says she is 'in a position to know this,' as the article is her own property, and supports the claim by demonstrating the presence of her initials embroidered across one corner. "I await your reply." And so we all do. * * * * * VICTRIX. Here's a lady come to town Puts us all to shame; Walking in with noiseless feet, Very light and very fleet, Over-night she came. Not a beauty in the land, Though she knew no peer Both for comeliness and grace, But must take a second place-- The snow is here. Never monarch wore, I swear, Such a radiant dress; All the whitenesses we prize Suddenly before our eyes Turn to dinginess. Gone are all the shining joys That we held so dear; Linens, marbles, gleaming plumes We must hide in shadowed glooms-- The snow is here. Veil your brows, you pretty maids, With your falling curls; Should you venture forth to-day Tuck your milky throats away, Cover up your pearls. Naught shall match your loveliness Later in the year (Who so foolish as to dare Say the lily is more fair?) But--the snow is here. R. F. * * * * * A MASTER OF GROTESQUE. The Leicester Galleries for laughter just now! For the walls of the inner room are hung with drawings by Mr. H.M. BATEMAN, not a few of which--such as "The Leave Wangler," and "The Man who Clung to the Railings," and "The Infectious Hornpipe"--have already rejoiced the readers of _Punch_. Mr. BATEMAN'S appeal is double, for, having enjoyed his broad or subtle farce and his keen satirical observations, one may turn to the admiration of his technique, or _vice versâ*_. He did not invent the idea of the humorous sequence--the accumulative pictorial comedy; CARAN D'ACHE had come before, and before CARAN D'ACHE was WILHELM BUSCH, the German; but he has made it his own to-day. Some of his series are irresistible. As a delineator of types, accurate beneath the caricature, he is deadly; particularly, perhaps, when he turns his attention to the Senior Service. But his Brigadiers and his Clubmen are also always within an ace of being identifiable. For anyone in the dumps Mr. Punch prescribes a speedy visit to the Leicester Galleries. * * * * * OUR PLUTOCRATIC CLERGY. "Curate wanted. £22. 2 churches. E.P." _Church Times_. [Illustration: _Mabel (to newly-married sister)._ "YOU DON'T MIND ME STILL CALLING YOU 'SYBIL,' DO YOU?"] * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. _(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.)_