have flown,
  But with BALFOUR, I fancy, I’ll still hold my own. 
    That flight in the boat was a funny vagary,
    But the picture I’ll paint will make SALISBURY scary,
    And set the bells ringing in New Tipperary! 
            In New Tipperary!

* * * * *

[Illustration:  TIPPERARY JUNCTION.

RIGHT HON.  A.B.  “BLESS JOHN MORLEY,—­NOW I’VE GOT SOMETHING TO SAY!”

RIGHT HON.  J.M.  “BLESS ARTHUR BALFOUR,—­NOW I’VE GOT SOMETHING TO
TALK ABOUT!”]

* * * * *

TO ENGELBERG AND BACK.

BEING A FEW NOTES TAKEN EN ROUTE IN SEARCH OF A PERFECT CURE.

“Oh! he’s ever so much better.  Why he only had two stumbles, and one cropper, doing his three hundred yards this morning.  That beats the record, anyhow.”

Young JERRYMAN is describing the effect the Engelberg air is already having on the Dilapidated One to several people, who have either been invalided themselves, or have had invalid relatives, or met, seen, or heard of invalids who have had similar satisfactory experiences.

“You know, I think the dining has a great deal to do with the beneficent effects of the place,” remarked, meekly, a mild-mannered Clergyman, who, had been brought up here apparently to “get tone.”  “You can’t sit down to table with three hundred people,” he continued, meditatively; as if the solution of the social problem had caused him some anxious thought, “without being inclined to launch out a little more than one does under ordinary conditions at home.  Only I wish they wouldn’t think it necessary to keep their dining-saloon at such an excessive temperature, and waste quite so much time between the different courses.”

[Illustration:  A Pleasant Little Excursion.]

And here the mild-mannered Clergyman had real ground for complaint; for the German recipe for table d’hote dinner seems to be something very much like the following:—­Get a room that has been smoked in, with closed and tightly-fastened windows and doors, all the morning.  Light the stove, if there is one, and turn on the gas, if there is any.  You begin your dinner.  Take twice, thrice, or, even four times of every course, glaring savagely and defiantly at your neighbour as you pass the dish.  Sit over each, allowing a good quarter of an hour for its proper digestion, and keep this up till the perspiration drops from your face.  Finally, in about two hours’ time, having carefully mopped your forehead, quit the table for the “Conversations Saal.”  Here (still keeping in gas and stove, if there is one) smoke till you can’t see six feet before you.  Keep this up till you have had enough of it, and feel the time is getting on for you to go through a modified edition of the same process at supper.  At least, this is how the German element—­a very formidable one at the Hotel Titlis—­for the most part, conducted itself over the principal