The great NAPOLEON had died many years before I was born; and how unjust it is that the lives of really interesting people should not coincide! But with the assistance of my beloved OLIVER LODGE I have had many conversations with him. Our first opened in this manner:-- MARGOT. Do you take any interest in current English politics? NAPOLEON. _Oui_ (Yes). MARGOT. What do you think of LLOYD GEORGE? NAPOLEON. An opportunist on horseback. MARGOT. I love riding too. I met most of my friends in the hunting-field. You should have seen me cantering into the hall of our town mansion. Who do you think our greatest statesman? NAPOLEON. ASQUITH beyond a doubt. Both PLATO and JULIUS CAESAR, whom my beloved OLIVER has also introduced to me, said the same thing. E. V. L. * * * * * FLOWERS' NAMES. SOLOMON'S SEAL. Oh, lordly was KING SOLOMON A-stepping down so proud, With his negro slaves and dancing girls And all his royal crowd; His peacocks and his viziers, His eunuchs old and grey, His gallants and his chamberlains And glistening array. Oh, blithesome was KING SOLOMON That burning summer day When lo! a humble shepherdess Stood silent in his way; Then stepped down kingly SOLOMON, And proud and great stepped he, And there he kissed the shepherdess-- Kissed one and two and three. Then proudly turned the peasant-maid-- Pale as a ghost was she-- "For all ye are KING SOLOMON, What make ye here so free?" Oh, lordly laughed KING SOLOMON, "Shalt be my queen," quoth he; "These kisses pledged KING SOLOMON And sealed him to thee." Then on went splendid SOLOMON And all his glittering band, And the wondering white peasant-girl He led her by the hand; But in that place sprang flower-stems All green, for kingly pride, With the small white kisses hanging down With which he sealed his bride. * * * * * SQUATTERS. Ursula came into the study, carrying something that had once been a photograph, but which the ravages of time had long since reduced to a faded and almost indecipherable problem. "Dear," she said, "you know this portrait of Clara's boy, the one in the sailor suit, from my writing-table? I was looking at it just now----" I interrupted her (it really was one of my rushed mornings). "I've been looking at it any time these fifteen years," I observed bitterly, "watching it become every day more and more fly-blown and like nothing on earth. What entitles it to special notice at this moment?" "Nothing--much," said Ursula; but from the tone of her voice experience taught me that sentiment was only just out of sight. "I was wondering whether to burn it----" "Good." "And then I thought that, as he was married the other day and is quite likely to have a boy of his own, it would be interesting to compare this early portrait."