within ten yards of it, except Mr. Rapp's, who, taking a bold aim, flings
his own gossamer down the area, over the railings, as the cat jumps
between them on to the water-butt, which is always her first leap in a
hurried retreat. Whereupon Mr. Rapp goes and rings the house-bell, that
the domestics may return his property; but not receiving an answer, and
being assured of the absence of a policeman, he pulls the handle out as
far as it will come, breaks it off, and puts it in his pocket. After this
they run about the streets, indulging in the usual buoyant recreations
that innocent and happy minds so situated delight to follow, and are
eventually separated by their flight from the police, from the safe plan
they have adopted of all running different ways when pursued, to bother
the crushers. What this leads to we shall probably hear next week, when
they are once more _réunis_ in the dissecting-room to recount their
adventures.

* * * * *


It is said that the Duke of Wellington declined the invitation to the Lord
Mayor's civic dinner in the following laconic speech:--"Pray remember the
9th November, 1830."--"Ah!" said Sir Peter Laurie, on hearing the Duke's
reply, "I remember it. They said that the people intended on that day to
set fire to Guildhall, and meant to roast the Mayor and Board of
Aldermen."--"On the old system, I suppose, of every man cooking his own
goose," observed Hobler drily.

* * * * *


THE "PUFF PAPERS."