trying to arrest an extraordinarily arrayed female at the instance of a certain Mr Brown, when one of the underground cables exploded, and all three were killed, the woman being so annihilated that no trace of her can be found. A companion of the woman's ran away just before the explosion and is being looked for. At about the same time a woman was found dead of heart disease inside the Museum, the heart failure being perhaps due to the noise of the explosion. We hope the Home Office may be induced to take the matter of underground cables into serious consideration.

Does the superficial reader smile at my disappearance? Well, I kept out of the way of the inquest, because "material evanescence in the presence of brute violence is the proper attribute of a reasonable being." A. S. L.

HORACE. Odes i. xix.

Ah me! Cupid's cruel mother,
And the son of Semelé
Bid me once again be lover;

And my love is Glyceré.

'Tis her face more fair than marble,
'Tis her winsome coquetry
And her dazzling eyes deceptive

Make me love my Glyceré.

Leaving Cyprus altogether,

Love's bright queen has come to me:

War and strife are now forgotten

In the thought of Glyceré.

Hasten! build the soft turf altar,
Cast upon it rose-mary;
Praying thus I may forget thee,
Once my love, sweet Glyceré.

W. F. C.

HORACE. Odes ii. iv.

(Done into English in the same metre.)

Let not thy love for thy handmaiden shame thee,
Phocian Xanthias, for of yore Briseis

Tho' but a slave girl by her fair complexion,
Moved stern Achilles.

Moved was lord Ajax, Telamon's proud offspring
By the sweet beauty of the bound Tecmessa:
E'en in his triumph Agamemnon burned with
Love for a maiden,

After the hoards of savage foes were conquered
By the Thessalian victor and the death of
Hector had given Troy an easy prey to

War-wearied Grecians.

Rich parents perchance has the fair-haired Phyllis
Who then shall grace thee as their son, for surely
Thy lov'd one's race is princely and she mourns at
Gods that do wrong her!

Trust me, thy darling is not a daughter of
The common rabble, nor could one thus faithful,
Thus hating base gain, ever have been born from
A shameful mother.

Whole-hearted I praise, arms and feet and ankles-
Those shapely ankles!-But do not suspect one
Whose age has hastened ere now to complete its
Fortieth winter.

W. F. C.

COXLEY'S Keeping Room in St Jerome's College, comfortably. furnished and looking painfully tidy.

The photographs on the mantelpiece have evidently been carefully arranged.

[COXLEY and GREENWOOD seated in basket chairs. Both are in their second year. The former looks athletic; the latter rather dull, but he has cherubic checks.]

GREENWOOD (mournfully). Yes, he said he saw I'd been pipped again in Little-Go, and couldn't see the good of my stopping up to make a record in unsuccessful shots. (Bitterly) The Guv'nor never did see the good of anything.

COXLEY. Wants you to go down, does he?

GR. O it's not that! I've a good chance of being sent down anyhow, after that rag at Bulcher's last

VOL. XX.

TT

Tuesday; but I've got to go to Germany to learn the language (with disgust), unless I break my teeth first. I'd like to see you→

Cox. You learn German!

ha, ha, ha!

GR. Ridiculous, isn't it? But it's the old boy's fad, and when he once gets a thing into his head

Cox. (shortly) Mine's just the same.

GR. Says he's always regretted not having learnt himself. I told him he'd regret it more if he heard me speak. But it's no use, I've got to shunt and (tragically) I've come here for the last time.

Cox. How good of you; I'm so glad.

GR. (drily) Don't mention it, old fellow.

Cox. No, no, I didn't mean that. I meant you've just come at the right time, when you can do me a parting favour. Aunt Lucinda has written to say she'd come up to-day for a visit; Robinson of Pemmer was coming here, but he scratched this morning because he had a toothache-he's always so inconsiderate.

GR. Your aunt-with Ethel, of course?

Cox. (very nonchalantly) Yes, I suppose with Ethel. And you know she was always awfully fond of you, and you are quite chums.

GR. Awfully good of you. Ethel and I always did— Cox. Ethel! I'm talking of Aunt. She's not particularly old and she's rather good looking, (growing enthusiastic) handsome I may say. In fact I've half a mind to trot her myself.

Cox. You know, take her into libraries and chapels, walk her, sit her, canter her, lose her, drown her. I know I may confidently put her under your care.

GR. I see, and you'll trot' Ethel.

Cox. Awfully good of you, Ned. I knew you would. [A timid knock] Come in!

GR. I'm off to change for lunch.

[Knock repeated.]

Cox. (irately) Come in, the name of

[Enter DR BRAUNSCHILD and FRAULEIN ROSA BRAUNSCHILD, the former stout and jovial; the latter a small, plump brunette with very bright eyes: she speaks English with a hardly perceptible foreign accent.]

(solemnly) the Lord.

DR BRAUNSCHILD. Ach Herr Professor

GR. (with difficulty) Well, so long, old chap, I really

must

Cox. (aside to GR.) Don't desert me, Ned.

[Exit GREENWOOD.]

DR B. We hef you, chancewise, distracted?

Cox. (disconcerted) O, not a bit. (Sotto voce) Why, it's old Braunschild! How the deuce did he get here? (Aloud) Won't you take——

DR B. Nodding, I thank, we come to have just breakfasted.

Cox. Er, a chair? Allow me to introduce you to (Bolted! Confound him!)--the scenery-that is, my

rooms.

DR B. I thought to make you a surprise. One told me that this was the great week of the whole year, and as I have great longing to see a Congress of your together-assembled Herr Professors and directors, we us in London by chance having found, remembered ourselves on your kind invitation and

Cox. (aside) What can the old fool mean? Great Scott! I remember now. What a dolt I was to invite them like that in Breslau last vac.

DR B. And are come to spend

Cox. (aside) A week at least.

DR B. One day with you in Cambridge. I have much desire to make the acquaintance of your Herr Professors and to study your Manuscriptscollections.

Cox. (aside) O Lord! And Aunt Lucinda and Ethel coming!