When my people get too old for service, I like to feel that they will not suffer want; so I give them a pension in proportion to the salary they are receiving at the time they retire. I spend about £40,000 in this way—a spending which has nothing but pleasure in it for me. I started a library some time ago for the younger members of my household, by giving them a large room and £500 for books. It has since been kept going by themselves, each subscriber paying eight shillings a year. Between three and eight on certain days in the week you may see numbers of them making their way thither for reading and recreation. Those who prefer it may have books to take home. One of my representatives is always present during these hours, just to show our interest in their recreation. The kind feeling, however, is not at all one-sided, as I have had frequent opportunities of judging. Times of trouble, panic, and sickness never fail to show me the love and devotion of my people, and that they have not hesitated to sacrifice their lives for my safety is a matter of history. During the hours of the night, when I take my well-earned sleep, I am watched over by my faithful servants, who take it in turn, two at the time, to keep watch, in which loving duty they are assisted by a company of Foot Guards. So you see on the whole I am a happy woman, a very busy one, and I think a safe one for you to trust. (_To be continued._) FOOTNOTES: [1] 12-11-1. Caledonian Railway.—Traffic for week ending 31st ultimo, £2,250 decrease. [2] There passes through the Clearing House annually the incomprehensible sum of £6,000,000,000 a year in the shape of cheques. OUR TOUR IN NORTH ITALY. BY TWO LONDON BACHELORS. [Illustration: ST. GIORGIO, MAGGIORE.] Our longing expectations were fulfilled, and we were vouchsafed a lovely evening for our entrance into Venice. By the time the train reached Mæstre all traces of the storm had disappeared, the sky was dark blue, and glittered with innumerable stars and a full moon—just such an ideal night as one would choose for getting one’s first impressions of the most poetical city in the world. From Padua to Mæstre there is nothing remarkable; the same seemingly eternal plain has to be traversed; but as the train draws near to the last-named city one begins to realise that one is really approaching the Queen of the Adriatic. At Mæstre we began to feel the sea breezes, and as the train rushed on to St. Giuliana we caught glimpses of the far-off lights of Venice reflected in the water. And now commences the vast bridge which takes the train over the lagune. This bridge is between three and four miles in length, and contains 222 arches. Our excitement was great when we reached the lagune, and the train seemed actually rushing through the water.