breakfast, is some satisfaction. But far be it from the Baron to give
more than this hint in anticipation of the tragic _dénoûment_. Some
might accuse Mr. THOMAS HARDY of foolhardiness in so boldly telling
ugly truths about the Pagan Phyllises and Corydons of our dear old
Christian England; but we, his readers, have the author's word for
the truth of what he has written, as "the fortunes of _Tess of the
D'Urbevilles, a Pure Woman_," are "faithfully presented," by THOMAS
HARDY, and so his honour is pledged to the truth of this story which
his powers of narration have made so fascinating to a host of readers
besides the one who is a host in himself, namely,

THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.

* * * * *

JUSTICE FOR JUSTICE!

SCENE--_A Court of Justice. Prisoner, a young man of
eighteen, in the dock, weeping bitterly. His Uncle stands
before him, and occasionally offers him smelling salts.
General commiseration amongst the spectators, many of whom
are ladies armed with opera-glasses. Police Constable under
cross-examination._

_Counsel for the Defence._ And so, Constable, you had actually the
heart to read the warrant to the Prisoner?

_Witness._ I did, Sir, in the execution of my duty.

_Coun. for the Def._ (_scornfully_). Duty! and to this he said