Quoth the Baron, “I was looking again into Saint Monica, just to see if I might like it any better than I did on the first occasion—­which, “with me hand upon me hearrt,” as Doctor O’Q. says, I cannot say I do,—­when I came upon the following misprint,—­“This woman, nevertheless, worshipped him as the god of her idoltary.” It’s a beautiful word, “idoltary,” and so much better than the ordinary way of spelling it.  So, after all, there is more in Saint Monica than I had expected.  In fact, its chief fault is that it is too much spun out; and, just at this time, Saint Monica mustn’t be associated in any sort of way with the House at Cambridge where they spin.

THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.

* * * * *

TO A DEBUTANTE.

Fair Maiden of unclouded brow
Who, gaily, ’mid the gay the gayest,
To England, Home, and Duty now
Oblation payest.

Gay seeming,—­if the milliner’s
Can cheer, the florist’s homage sightly;
And yet, unless my fancy errs,
Thou shudderest slightly.

Is it a sigh for childhood’s bliss,
A dread of what is coming, come what
May matrimonially—­or is
It draughty somewhat?

St. James’s corridors are long
As Art, as Life thy raiment brief is
(Except the train, of course)—­and strong
Mamma’s relief is.

In vulgar phrase, “Your mother knows
You’re out,” at length.  Such triumphs too dear
Are sometimes purchased.  I suppose
She fidgets you, dear.

“The Countess!—­bow, child, to the Earl!—­
Those terrible HYDE PARKES!  Their posies
Look quite too vulgar; cut them, girl. 
How red your nose is!

“Quick! take the powder-puff, my love—­
Not on your bouquet or your hair now!—­
Don’t bungle so; you’ll drop that glove—­
Please take more care now.

“You stoop like any bourgeoise chit. 
Who’d think you educated highly? 
No, not so stiff.  Do blush a bit,
And simper shyly.”

Ah!  Maiden fair of cloudless air. 
This kind of thing is hardly pleasant. 
Indeed, I’m thankful not to wear
Thy shoes at present!

* * * * *

“THE FLOWERS THAT BLOOM, TRA-LA!”

[Illustration]

In the Times for March 12th appeared a notice of The Spring Flower Show, wherein it was stated that a silver medal was awarded to Mr. BARR for his “pretty collections, which included the spurius Henry Irving.”  There’s an “o” omitted, of course, but it’s the same word.  Who is the “spurious HENRY IRVING”?  Where does this flower of the Drama flourish, away from the Lyceum Theatre?  What and where does HENRICUS SPURIUS play?  Does he appear in the Hare-Bells?  Is he to bloom in Covent Garden? or is it, after all, only a plant?  There is only one HENRICUS IRVINGUS, and he’s not “spurius.”

* * * * *