He touched an electric bell. As this did not ring, he blew down a tube, and receiving no answer, nor indeed hearing the whistle at the other end, he sent a messenger, who, by some accident, failed to return to the editorial office. Dr. Caliban himself went down and brought up the stranger. He was a young man somewhat cadaverous. He repeated what he had said in his note, refused to bargain in any way, received two sovereigns from Dr. Caliban’s own purse, sighed deeply, and then with a grave face said: “It feels like treason.” He pressed his lips hard together, conquered himself, and left us with the utmost rapidity. When Dr. Caliban and I were alone together, he opened the sealed envelope and read these words, written on a little slip of foolscap: “_The following letter is accepted by the Spectator, and will be printed next week._” To this slip was pinned a rather dirty half-sheet of notepaper, and on this was the following letter: Balcarry Castle, County Mayo. Jan. 19th, 1903. To the Editor of the _Spectator_. Dear Sir, Among your humorous Irish stories perhaps the following will be worthy to find a place. A dear uncle of mine, my father’s half brother, and the husband of the talented E. J. S., was bishop of Killibardine, a prelate of great distinction and considerable humour. I well remember that somewhere in the summer of 1869, his valet having occasion to call unexpectedly upon a relative (butler to the Duke of Kerry), the latter observed “Indade, an’ shure now an’ is that yourself, Pat, Pat asthor, at all, at all,” to which the witty fellow answered, with the true Irish twinkle in his eye, “Was your grandfather a monkey?” I am very faithfully yours, THE MACFFIN. Dr. Caliban was heartily amused by the tale, and told me that he had met the MacFfin some years ago at Lady Marroway’s. “Nevertheless,” he added, I don’t think it would be fair to comment on the little story ... I had imagined that something graver was toward ...” He never spoke again of the small outlay he had made, and I afterwards found that it had been included in the general expenses of the paper. I have never forgotten the lesson, nor since that date have I ever accepted MSS. and paid for it without making myself acquainted to some extent with the subject. A little such foresight upon that occasion would have convinced us that a letter of this kind would never have found a place in a review of the calibre of the _Spectator_. Contrast with Dr. Caliban’s wise and patriotic conduct upon this occasion the wickedness and folly of the _Evening German_ in the matter of the Cabinet Crisis. For some time the saner papers, which see the Empire as it is, had been issuing such placards as “He must go,” “Make room for Joseph” and other terse and definite indications of a new policy.