TO OUR READERS. 



A letter was delivered at our office some few days since, beginning with an inquiry, but with 



no other signature than our monogram, 

 " What an appropriate monogram 

 of Horticulture, Journalists of Hives, 

 to support the H, and the H holds up 

 that sister of mine, whose scribble 

 H always remind her of a broken gate 



and concluding with this postscript : — 

 that is ! It may be taken to mean Journalists 

 and Journalists of Hens. The J, too, seems 

 the J, just as co-Editors ought to do ; though 

 you sometimes insert, declares that that J and 

 fastened to a post." 



Now, it so happened that the J was reading aloud the letter to the H, and when he had con- 

 cluded that sentence he stopped and said, " 'Maud's' sister wrote that. These ladies are both York- 

 shire — here 's the Leeds postmark." 



But H, no doubt better satisfied with being compared to a gate than J was with his likeness 

 to a post, made a response neither negative nor affirmative, but evasive, for he said, "Read on." 

 So J read on as follows : — " Our cattle-yard has suffered dreadfully from the rinderpest ; but that 

 has nothing to do with the Journal writers, unless " Wiltshire Rector" takes his tithe in kind. And 

 Cousin Anne, who married Phelim O'Donoghuc, of Ballygarth House, in Sligo, can't settle to anything 

 for fear of the Fenians ; but I suppose they are no connections of the gentleman who writes about 

 Potatoes and Wine, though he is a Fenn. And then those dreadful failures — I suppose that they 

 wo'n't injure the Journal, unless J and H have shares in the Agra, the London Chatham & Dover, 

 and the Overend things. My sister says that she dares say they have, for men who write much 

 rarely have common sense ; and if J and H have had to do with those things, she thinks the Journal 

 may fail too. It would be a thousand pities, for I really believe it does a little good. Our curate 

 takes it, and I know laid out his flower garden from something drawn in it ; and we give our copy to 

 Harry Martin, who married our cook and settled in Craven, and he sends it to his brother in New 

 Zealand. Mrs. Martin wrote to her sister, our housemaid, the other day ; and I must make one 

 extract, because I know it will please J and H, to whom I beg, in conclusion, to say, no longer 

 jocularly, I wish many happy New Years. This is the extract : — ' Martin does what the Journal tells 

 him, and has just said, " I really do not know what I should have done without it. I should have 

 ' gone ail wrong,' for I do not know any one who could have given me a word of advice." And his 

 brother's letter from New Zealand last month said, "The Journal does remind me of home so; and 

 ,1 now Bay, as I often say when reading, God bless the Editors, and prosper their work." 



" That will do for a Preface," said H ; but he and J must add that neither rinderpest, nor 

 Fenianisiu, nor ruined speculations have weakened the resources of the Journal. Its staff is unscathed 

 and strengthened; its circulation increased; and they hope that the J will continue to "support the 

 H," and the H to '•uphold the J," for many years to come. 



