The conviction that it was my Opinion, and mine alone, which FIBBINS dispatched, probably out of sheer laziness, to ROGERS & CO., Solicitors, Chancery Lane, is one that I still retain.  But it is FIBBINS who retains the fee!

* * * * *

AT THE CLOSE OF THE SUMMER.

(By one who idled.  To his Lady-help.)

  I am back at my work, which is far from exciting
    After nothing to do for a month at a time,
  So I am not astonished to find myself writing
    To you, dear MELENDA, and writing in rhyme. 
  In my rooms very often the scent of the heather
    Brings back with it sweet recollections, and so
  I think of the days when we idled together,
    Far away in the country a fortnight ago.

  Yes, the two afternoons when, although we were sorry
    That it rained, we went out as to do we had vowed,
  And the wonderful echo we found in a quarry
    That took what we whispered and said it aloud. 
  Whilst we wandered through fern-laden hedges and talked, it
    So happened a dragon-fly flew by your side. 
  You remember, I’m sure, how you laughed as I stalked it,
    And how it seemed hurt, as it finally died.

  Then I think of our pic-nic.  The sunshine came glinting,
    And we thought that the summer had come—­come to stay. 
  We did not walk too fast, you were constantly hinting
    You were really afraid we were losing our way. 
  I seemed to be catching two glimpses of heaven,
    As I gazed at the sky and kept looking at you;
  For the party that started by being just seven
    Had a curious habit of shrinking to two.

  Why, that’s quite sentimental.  It isn’t the fashion
    To write of such things in so high flown a style. 
  Yet maybe I’m entitled to so much of passion
    As to say that you won me outright with your smile. 
  Though a merciless fate may not let it befall so,
    For we know not at all what there may be in store,
  Yet next year, if you’re down there—­and I am there also,
    Shall we do what we did in the summer before?

* * * * *

“TO ERR IS HUMAN.”—­“Even I am not always infallible,” observed Mr. P., on noticing that, in the dialogue under a picture, last week, the spelling of “cover-coat” for “covert-coat” had escaped his eagle eye.  Just as he was wondering to himself how such things could be, his other and eagler eye caught this line in the correspondence, per “Dalziel,” from Chicago, in the Times for Sept. 23:—­“Great Britain has chosen a sight for her buildings at the World’s Fair.”  If “taken” had been substituted for “chosen,” the mistake might have borne a satirical meaning.  No doubt Great Britain has not made any error as to the site she has selected, from any point of view.

* * * * *