The other evening, at the Newsvendor's dinner, I heard 

 Sir John Bennett explain to an amused company that his 

 best and most original after-dinner ideas were in reality the 

 property of the amiable lady who inspired them at the 

 breakfast table. Remembering this yesterday, and making, 

 practical application of the incident, I went to call on 

 a lady whose cultivated taste, and intuitive feminine 

 perception tempted me to show her the proofs of the pre- 

 ceding pages. Being among Nature's chosen ones she had, 

 besides, the imprint on her of a husband able and good ; — 

 and it is with women as with the British Museum, God knows 

 what the best of them may become in bad hands ! As she 

 read the pamphlet I sat sipping tea and meditating on the 

 bounty of Providence in bestowing on the women of this 

 land their beautiful blonde hair as a compensation for the 

 sunlessness of the country. 



Y\ 7 hen she had finished, after a moment of silence she 

 raised her eyes to me and said : — 



" Shall I tell you frankly, Mr. Poles, what will happen ?"' 



" Well, I suppose an inquiry will be instituted ; Mr. 

 Jones will be " 



" Oh, not at all. If your pamphlet sells so that it cannot 

 be ignored, the officials will draw up an address of loyal 

 devotion to Mr. Jones ; the transcribers will be compelled 

 to sign it, and the Trustees will say : ' We shall uphold 

 you, Mr. Jones, and we beg you not to be disturbed by the 

 attacks of that spiteful foreigner." 



