an Old English Tillage. At one o'clock Colonel and Mrs. CHORKLE,
Alderman and Mrs. TOLLAND, and one or two others, lunched with us, and
afterwards we all drove off together in a procession of carriages. I
insisted on _Carlo_ being left behind, locked up in Mother's bed-room,
with a dish of bones to comfort him, and an old dress of Mother's to
lie on. That old dress has been devoted to _Carlo_ for the last two
years, and no amount of persuasion will induce _Carlo_ to take another
instead. We tried him with a much better one a short time ago, but
he was furious, tore it to ribbons and refused his food until his old
disreputable dress had been restored to him.

The Bazaar proceedings began with a short prayer delivered by the
Bishop of BRITISH GUIANA, an old Billsbury Grammar-School boy, who
was appointed to the bishopric a month ago. Everybody is making a
tremendous fuss about him here of course. As soon as the prayer was
over, Colonel CHORKLE rose and made what he would call one of his
"'appiest hefforts." The influence of lovely woman, Conservative
principles, devotion to the Throne, the interests of the Conservative
Young Men's Sustentation Fund, all mixed up together like a hasty
pudding. Then came the moment for Mother. First, however, WILLIAMINA
HENRIETTA SMITH CHORKLE had to be removed outside for causing a
disturbance. Her father's speech so deeply affected this intelligent
infant, who had come under the protection of her nurse, that she burst
out into a loud yell and refused to be comforted. The Colonel's face
was a study--a mixture of drum-head Courts-martial and Gatling guns.
Mother got through with her little speech all right. As a matter
of fact she read it straight off a sheet of paper, having finally
decided that her memory was too treacherous. We both set to work and
bought an incredible amount of things. After half an hour I found
myself in possession of six bonnets made by Miss PENFOLD, three