Take stroll in Park to collect my thoughts. Find two leading Belfast linen-merchants busily gathering up sawdust, &c, round tree I felled yesterday. They explain that they've been "much interested in my novel idea of converting chips of wood into best cambric pocket-handkerchiefs," and think that it beats General BOOTH's notion of making children's toys out of old sardine-tins hollow. I should rather think it did! Still, have to confess that I'm _not_ ready at present to "quote them my wholesale price for best oak-shavings delivered free on rail." Telegram from--CHAMBERLAIN! Says he sees the new Society's one of "universal" beneficence, and supposes it includes him! Quite a mistake! Sends cheque for three pounds, and hopes I'll "keep a strict account of all sums received, and issue a report and balance-sheet shortly." Really, very injudicious of me to use word "universal"! Ought to have expressly excluded Liberal-Unionists (so-called), from my plan. That's where General BOOTH has advantage of me. _He_ probably doesn't exclude anybody that wants to send him money. Perhaps, after all, he knows how to do this sort of thing better than I do. Wire to him, and hand him over the money I've already received, also ask him to start a "universally beneficent" branch of Salvation Army. Receive reply, accepting my offer, in no time! General adds that he has a staff appointment in his Army waiting for me, and that he would like my good lady to become a Salvation Lass. Requires consideration and--hem--consultation! * * * * * [Illustration: EASY FOR THE JUDGES. _Geoffrey_ (_to rejected Candidate for honours at the Dog Show_). "NEVER MIND, SMUT! WE'LL HAVE A DOG SHOW THAT SHALL BE ALL CATS EXCEPT YOU, AND THEN YOU'LL HAVE IT ALL YOUR OWN WAY!"] * * * * * VOCES POPULI. AT THE PASTEL EXHIBITION. IN THE ANTE-ROOM. _A Niece_. Just one moment, Auntie, dear; _do_ look and see what No. 295 is! _Her Aunt_ (_with a Catalogue--and a conscience_). Two hundred and ninety-five! Before we have even seen No. 1? No, my dear, no. Let us take things in their proper order--or not at all. (_Perambulates the galleries for some minutes, refraining religiously from looking at anything but the numbers._) Ah, _here_ it is--Number One! _Now_, ETHEL, I'm ready to tell you anything you please! _First Matter-of-Fact Person_. Ah, here's another of the funny ones! [_Is suddenly seized with depression._ _Second M.-of-F.P._ Y-yes. (_Examines it gloomily._) What's it all about? _First M.-of-F.P._ (_blankly_). Oh, well, it's a Pastel--I don't suppose it's meant to be about anything in particular, you know. _The Conscientious Aunt_ (_before No. 129_). "_The Sprigged Frock_"? Yes, that must be the one. I suppose those _are_ meant for sprigs--but I can't make out the pattern. She _might_ have made her hair a little tidier--such a bush! and I never _do_ think blue and green go well together, myself.