"My dear TOBY" (this is the post-card), "I'm just going up to
Edinburgh; another Midlothian Campaign; You have been with me every
time; don't desert me now; have something quite new and original to
say on the Irish Question; would like you to hear it. Perhaps you
never heard of Mitchelstown? Been looking up particulars. Mean to
tell the whole story. Will be nice and fresh; come quite a shock on
BALFOUR. Don't fail; Yours ever, W.E.G."

Didn't fail, and here I am, not in Our Garden, but in Edinburgh. Left
the Member for Sark in charge. A little uneasy; never know from day
to day what his well-meant but ill-directed energy may not achieve.
At least the celery will be safe. One day, after I had worn myself out
with watching gardener dig trench, Sark came along, and in our absence
filled it up. Said it looked untidy to have long hole like that
in respectable garden. Supposed we had been laying a drain; quite
surprised we weren't pleased, when he gleefully announced he had
filled it up.

Just come back from great meeting in Corn Exchange. Difficult to
realise that it's eleven years since Mr. G. here in first campaign.
A great deal happened in meantime, but enthusiasm just the same.
Mr. G. I suppose a trifle older, but ROSEBERY still boyish-looking.
Proceedings opened with procession of Delegates presenting addresses
to Mr. G. Excellently arranged; reflects great credit on PAT CAMPBELL.
(Capital name that for manager of variety _troupe_.) Leading idea was
to present imposing representation of Liberal Scotia doing homage
to its great chief. PAT caught on at once. Engaged thirty stalwart
men: none of your seedy sandwich-board fellows; responsible-looking
burghers of all ages and sizes. Got them together in room at left door
of stage--I mean of platform; free breakfast; oatmeal cake; unstinted