flourished. It was in this leafy prison that I supplied the genuine old
Armada mahogany "as advertised." I would be afraid to say how many places I
supplied with wood from the Armada. I may hint that I know something of the
tables at Westminster and the benches of Gray's Inn. But there, that is
many years ago, and all I can say now is, "Heave away, boys," and "Three
cheers for the Don, the Keys, and the Donkey." I was the Don, the keys were
supplied to those who paid for them, and the donkeys could defend
themselves. The Armada was not a success, and after this frank avowal, it
seems to me that Mr. FROUDE need render no further explanation. Surely the
story of the Spanish Invasion is copyright. And if it is, Mr. FROUDE has no
right to tamper with my work, the more especially as it is immediately
appropriated by that model of modern journalism the _Review of Reviews_.

* * * * *

PHILOSOPHICAL REFLECTION.--We have five senses. That's quite enough. If we
had a sixth sense, what a _new sense_ it would be!

* * * * *

"IN CELLAR DEEP."

(_Latest Up-to-Date Version of a celebrated Bacchanalian ditty, as
it might be revised by Dr. Mortimer Granville and Mr. James
Payn._)

["No one drinks alcoholic liquor (unless it be beer) to quench
thirst."--JAMES PAYN.]

In Cellar deep I sit and steep