THOUGH S. BARING-GOULD is not seen at his very best in Guavas the Tanner, which, considering its subject, might be located among his "miner" works, yet does the tale abound in exciting situations, and presents us with a couple of heroines, the one as good, the other as bad, as they make 'em; a manly hero and a contemptible pair or more of villains, on whom poetic justice comes down heavily before the final chapter. The construction of the story is, like its mining technicalities, a bit puzzling, while the explanations are, at all events to the eager reader who would not willingly be a skipper, somewhat tedious. For all that the Baron recommends Guavas the Tanner. Messrs. A. & C. BLACK, by publishing their most useful Who's Who, show that they decidedly know "What's What.' It brings us up to the very latest date of the County Council election of March the ninth; it gives us not only the House of Lords but the Heirs of Peers, which, as a title to a catalogue in this work, hath a sound calculated to raise the dander of an antipeerish Radical who might be inclined to say, "See what airs the Peers give themselves!" Army, Academy, Bishops, Corporation, and even "Agents for Cruises," all are here mixed up with Admirals, Deans, Earls, and Field-Marshals; information as to Ireland and India; Mems. about Magistrates and Magazines; notes on Navy and Newspapers, and brief biographies of notabilities from the first to the last letter of the alphabet, giving even the recreations of distinguished individuals, one of whom has recorded how the little time he has to spare away from his multifarious duties is devoted to the "recreation" of "amateur soldiering." Delightful! What charming pictures of infantry drill in the nursery, pickets in the pantry, and the charge of the light brigade on the rocking-horse, does this not suggest! And what is the recreation of the "retired statesman," Mr. GLADSTONE? It is simply "Literature." No biking and golfing, such as occupy the spare time of Rt. Hon. ARTHUR JAMES BALFOUR, Captain of the Golfers, and President of Cycle-Unionists. Remark a touching entry in the brief biographical note about the Hon. Sir ROBERT ROMER, whose "recreations" are "shooting, cycling,

VOL. CXII

STARTING A SYNDICATE.

A SERIO-COMIC INTERLUDE.

SCENE-An Office in the City. TIME-After Lunch.
PRESENT-Members of a proposed Syndicate.

First Member. And now, gentlemen, to business. I suppose we may put down the capital at fifty thousand?

Second Mem. Better make it five hundred thousand. Half a million is so much easier to get.

Third Mem. Of course. Who would look at a paltry fifty? First Mem. Perhaps you are right. Five pound shares, eh? Fourth Mem. Better make them sovereigns. Simpler to manipulate.

First Mem. I daresay. Then the same solicitors as our last? Fifth Mem. Yes, on the condition that they get a firm to undertake the underwriting.

First Mem. Necessarily. The firm I propose, gentlemen, are men of business, and quite recognise that nothing purchases nothing.

Second Mem. And they could get the secretary with a thousand to invest.

First Mem. Certainly. Our brokers, bankers, and auditors as before. Eh, gentlemen?

Fifth Mem. On the same conditions.

First Mem. That is understood. And now the prospectus is getting into shape. Is there anything else anyone can suggest? Fourth Mem. Oughtn't we to have some object in view? First Mem. Assuredly. Making money.

Fourth Mem. Don't be frivolous. But what I mean is, should we not know for what purpose we are going to expend the half million?

First Mem. Oh, you mean the name. Well, that comparatively unimportant detail we might safely leave until our next pleasant gathering. [Meeting adjourned. Curtain.

AH! Here we go up, up, up! And there we go down, down, down!

No, no, not a bit of it! Jubilee gifts should a jubilee revenue crown.

But the Income Tax stands, as so long it has stood, at eight pence-oh lor!-in the pound

And whenever "phenomenal yields" do turn up, phenomenal claims, too, are found.

Sir MICHAEL, my boy, we will dub you Saint MICHAEL if only you'll lower that tax,

Which we middle-class camels have patiently borne, but which slowly is breaking our backs.

Here we go up, up, up! Well, we're glad in this Jubilee Year

You should have such a bonus. But, mercy upon us! you're apt to forget us, we fear.

We must pay the Old Lady her eight pence, subscribe to the Jubilee Purse,

And eke to the Indian Famine Relief Fund! Our state, my dear Sir, will be worse In this Annus Mirabilis, leaping and bounding. We 're loyal to country and Crown,

THE TRUE PATRIOT.

MR. JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN, in his highspirited and patriotic speech at the Royal Colonial Institute, complained of certain unfriendly critics who "appear to be under the impression that nobody but a foreigner has a right to be a patriot." A hit, a palpable hit, Sir! Per contra, however, there are a yet larger number of people who appear to hold the equally irrational opinion that "nobody but an Englishman has a right to be a patriot"; and that the patriotism of the foreigner is, to say the least of it, a mere superfluity of naughtiness. Which is absurd! If patriotism is a crowning virtue in a Briton, it cannot be a vice even in a Boer. Let us, whether common citizens of Colonial Ministers, remember that the worst enemy of Peace is he who would make patriotism a monopoly -anywhere.

A patriot, no doubt, is a fine fellow,
Whether he's black, or white, or brown, or yellow;
But the wise patriot, foe to strife and schism,
Allows for other people's patriotism.

Madame Jones. "THERE) MISS! Now DON'T THAT STYLE SUIT YOUR MA'S FIGURE MOST BEAUTIFUL?"

SCENE-The Dining-room, as before. Spencer (to himself). It's awful! Poor dear ETTA! engaged to a Swiss valet, and no more idea of it than- I really don't know what I can say or do. I wonder whether I'll try it. (Aloud.) Er-VON GUBLER, to return to this valet. It strikes me now that he 'd much better marry the keeper's daughter. Fritz (with a short laugh). Fery goot advahice, but a liddle doo lade!

Henrietta (to herself). How blind poor SPEN is! If I could only open his eyes, or work on this girl's better feelings-if she has any-I might (Aloud, with intention.) Yes, SPENCER, FRITZ means that the girl, from pique or or some other motive, has been foolish enough to engage herself to-to somebody more than twice her age.

Spen. (to himself). That's a back-hander for me. It's not kind, or like ETTA-but there, poor girl, I must make allowances for her. (Aloud.) Oh, I was not aware of that. Well, well, such marriages are not always

Henr. But this one can't turn out well. And how does she know that, when it is too late, the valet who, I believe, is still devoted to her You did say so, didn't you, FRITZ? (In an undertone.) Say he is; you 're not helping me a bit!

[FRITZ tugs at his moustaches with an expression of hopeless vacuity.

Mercy. Excuse me, ETTA, my dear, but if Mr. VON GUBLER told you that, he might have mentioned that the valet-unless I'm very much mistaken-is engaged to be married himself.

Spen. And for purely mercenary reasons, I'm afraid, eh, MERCY, my darling? Still-er-I am sure that, if his fiancée were acquainted with the facts, she wouldn't hesitate a moment in releasing him.

Mercy. Mr. VON GUBLER hasn't said yet whether the valet wanted to be released. (To FRITZ.) Does he?

Fritz. To find himself left out altogetter in the colt? Nod likely!

Spen. Ah, but there 's time yet, you see. He might go back to his old sweetheart, and MERCY has an idea that if he did, she might not be unwilling, even now- (To MERCY, sotto voce.) Back me up, darling, back me up!

Mercy. You're going too far, SPENCER. If she's the girl I take her for, she wouldn't have anything to do with a man who's left off caring for her.

Henr. But he hasn't left off, has he, FRITZ? And and we both think, if she only had the courage to break it off

Mercy. On the bare chance that he might do the same? I wouldn't, in her place. Besides, how can a girl tell a man like that ?

Spen. (thoughtfully). I see the difficulty. But I tell you what I could do, VON GUBLER. If I only had this other man's name and address-I mean the man this girl is now engaged to, I'm quite willing to go and call upon him myself, and put it to him delicately, you know.

Mercy. Oh, don't, don't! if you only knew how ridiculous you're making yourself!

Spen. (annoyed). My dear MERCY, you might give me credit for being-er-sufficiently a man of the world to

Henr. No, no, SPENCER. I will undertake to explain it to him. And if MERCY can tell me where to find this other woman, I will go and see her. I'll appeal to her pride and self-respect to give up this man, the valet, who doesn't really care for her, and does care for somebody else. (MERCY giggles hysterically.) I appear to amuse you?

Fritz. It is nodings. Miss MARIGOLT thinks berhaps you will find that laty a liddle diffigult to gonvince.

Mercy. But if they were both free, they wouldn't be a bit forwarder, for the valet has nothing to marry on.

Fritz. I peg bardon. I habben to know he has a schmall broberty, nod much, but enoff to puy a liddle hotel or lotchinghouse, and lif bretty gomfordable.

Henr. There, MERCY, you see that if the girl only But let us two go upstairs and talk it over, and leave SPENCER and FRITZ to smoke in peace. [She rises.

Spen. Yes, go, my dear, for I should like a little quiet chat over this with VON GUBLER, and if he will leave it to me

Fritz (sullenly). It is pedder you leaf it to the yong beoples to seddle. It is fery simble. This yong chab has only to say to the yong vomans, "Look here, if you sack your olt vellow, I gif my olt curl whad you gall the chuck!" There it is in a nudshell. Spen. (disgusted). If that's your idea of putting it delicately! Fritz. Ach, we are oal so deligate and diblomatic we nefer ged novhere! HENRIETTE, do not leaf pefore I ask Miss MARIGOLT if she brefer an elterly sugarproker with nod much moneys, a schmall house, and a mittle-aged sister to a yong enderbrising Schviss with loaf in his heart and in his pocket a liddle gabital! Mercy (rushing into his arms). Oh, FRITZ, of course I'd rather have you if you'll give up HENRIETTA! And I'm sure SPENCER won't mind. He's such a goodnatured old dear. Now, you know you are, SPENCER! [SPENCER and HENRIETTA stare wildly at them. Spen. (passing his hand over his brows). But-but, MERCY, you can't be- Why, you told me your father was a gentlemanfarmer, and frequently went out shooting with Lord COLESHAFTS! Fritz. As keeber-quide drue. The rest-well, I subbose that was oal liddle MERCY's von.

Henr. (faintly, from an armchair into which she has sunk). But at least you cannot have been a-a valet? A VON GUBLER! Mercy. GUBLER I knew him as. Plain GUBLER. I fancy the rest was well, wasn't little Fritz's von. And I can't help being a little amused, you know, at your being in such a state lest I should shock his aristocratic feelings by letting out that I'd been a servant. And oh, SPENCER, when you volunteered to go and put the case to yourself as one man to another-well, there, it was very nearly the death of me!

Spen. I-I daresay it must have struck you as supremely ridiculous. However, I think I may assure you that my sister and I fully recognise now that-that- Ah, MERCY, MERCY, you might have been frank with me! Henr. (to Fritz). Do you suppose that if I had known-all this-I should ever have?

Mercy. Oh, it's all very well, but you weren't so particularly frank with us. I shall always think I always must think myself -that, being both so young and inexperienced, we ought to have been told more, and not deceived into giving a promise bywell, what some would call false pretences!

Fritz (wagging his head with solemn reproach). Yes, valse bretence, that is yust the vort. We haf been imbosed upon.