In one of the kiosks a lecture on "Sick Leave and how to spend it,” by the Earl and the Doctor, might be delivered hourly.  In another kiosk, official C.B.’s would be on show; Jubilee C.B.’s being classed together on one side, and special prominence being given to those C.B.’s who hadn’t applied for the honour, and to those who had obtained it for real services otherwise unrecognised.  After dark the “Treasury Ring” might join hands and dance round the flashing light of their own unassisted intellect.

The different refreshment rooms (furnished by the Office of Works) would be classified according to the varying rates of Subsistence Allowance in force in the Service.  Here the dinner for the L1-a-day man—­there the tea for the 10s.-a-day man.  Special luncheon rates for those not absent from home at night, but absent for more than ten hours.

Visitors might be searched on arrival and departure by real Custom House Officers.  This would be sure to make it popular.  Please, dear Mr. Punch, do help us.  Yours, &c.,

A GOVERNMENT CLERK.

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ENGLISH OPERA AS SHE ISN’T SUNG.

[Illustration:  “Very sorry, my dear Sir Ivanhoe, but you’re rather too heavy for this Carte.  We shall get along better with a lighter weight.”]

It seems impossible to support a Royal English Opera House with its special commodity of English Opera, that is, Opera composed by an Englishman to an Englishman’s libretto, and played by English operatic singers. Ivanhoe, a genuine English Opera, by a genuine English Composer (with an Irish name), produced with great eclat, has, after a fair run and lots of favour, been Doyl-ecarte, in order to make room for the Basoche, an essentially French Opera, by French Composer and Librettists, done, of course, into English, so as to be “understanded of the people.”  The Basoche has “caught on,” and our friends in front, including Composer, Librettist, and Middlemen—­DRURIOLANUS, who bought it, and DOYLY CARTY, who bought it of Sir DRURI—­are all equally pleased and satisfied.  Considered as a matter of business, what signifies the nationality as long as the spec pays?—­tout est la. Only why retain the differentiating title of “English” for the establishment?  Why not call it “The Cosmopolitan Opera House”?  Of course this applies, nowadays, to Covent Garden Theatre, which is no longer the Italian Opera House, but simply the Covent Garden Opera during the Operatic Season, when French, English, Italian, and German Operas are played by a Babel of singers.  By the way, while on the subject of nomenclature, why not “The Royal Babel Opera House”?

* * * * *

[Illustration:  A LUCID INTERVAL.

(THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED DIFFERENTLY.)

Doctor. “HOW IS THE PATIENT THIS MORNING?”

Nurse. “WELL—­HE HAS BEEN WANDERING A GOOD DEAL IN HIS MIND.  EARLY THIS MORNING I HEARD HIM SAY, ’WHAT AN OLD WOMAN THAT DOCTOR IS!’—­AND I THINK THAT WAS ABOUT THE LAST REALLY RATIONAL REMARK HE MADE.”]