'Tis the hour of _douche_. RICHARD, the attendant, will be there to give it me. _Douche-ment, douche-ment._ Gently does it! O RICHARD, O _Mon Roy-at_!... _Au revoir!_ * * * * * Mrs. R. went to see the _premiere_ of a new piece about which there had been considerable excitement in the theatrical world. "It was quite a novelty for me," said the good lady to a friend; "every literal person was there of any imminence, and my nephew, who is connected with papers himself, told me that the stalls were full of crickets. He pointed them all out to me. Most interesting." * * * * * [Illustration: "LE MONDE OU L'ON S'AMUSE." _Miss Ponsonby de Tomkyns_ (_just out_). "OH, PAPA! SUCH AN _EXQUISITE_ CONCERT IT WAS AT LADY MIDAS'S! THE DUCHESS WAS THERE, AND THE MOWBRAY-MASHAMS, AND LORD AND LADY WROTTENHAM, AND COUNT EDELWEISS, AND CAPTAIN DE COURCY, AND SIR MAINWARING CARSHALTON AND HIS WIFE, AND--IN FACT EVERYBODY ONE CARES TO MEET." _Mr. P. de T._ "INDEED! AND WHO PLAYED AND SANG?" _Miss P. de T._ "WHO PLAYED AND SANG? WELL--A--A--REALLY, DO YOU KNOW, I DON'T REMEMBER!"] * * * * * "GLASS FALLING!" _Head of the House, loquitur_:-- Dear me! Going back? I can hardly conceive it. I thought we were in for a spell of "Set Fair." A serious change? No, I will not believe it; I _can't_, I declare. I've tapped it with confidence morning by morning, This glass which has never deceived me before; And now to go wrong in this way, without warning!-- It's really a bore. Of course it's too bad to be _true_, for the weather So settled has seemed, and has promised so well, And why it should go and break up altogether Nobody can tell. Tap! Tap! Yes, it's true, it is certainly dropping. Things seem--for the moment--a bit out of joint, For of course there is not the least fear of its _stopping_ At such a low point. No, no, that's absurd; the idea makes one pallid. This many and many a day from my door Without a top-coat or a gingham I've sallied; And now, will it pour? O nonsense! The omens have all been so cheery; _The Times_, in its forecasts, have been so cock-sure. Can we all have been wrong? Nay, a prospect so dreary I cannot endure. Some local disturbances truly I've heard of. Our foes make the most of such little mishaps; But then they mean nothing; it's really absurd of The ignorant chaps. At Spalding or Coventry weather may vary;-- And yet, when the "area of change" gets too wide, Men fancy it's more than a passing vagary;-- Ay, even _our_ side.