Yours respectfully,
TOMMY.

SIR,—­I frequently recommend patients suffering from advanced atrophy to try Nettle Broth.  I must say that I am myself nettled, when they reply that they prefer the advanced atrophy.  A good counter-irritant in cases of blood-poisoning is a stout holly leaf, eaten raw.  In serious cases of collapse, if a patient can be got to consume a cactus or a prickly pear, the stimulative effect is really surprising.  In the absence of these products of the vegetable kingdom, a hedge-stake, taken directly after a meal, will do equally well.

Yours professionally,
SOLUBLE SALT, F.R.C.P.

* * * * *

AT THE WILD WEST.

(A SKETCH AT EARL’S COURT.)

The Orator’s Opening Discourse (as heard in the back rows).  Ladies and Gentlemen, I desire to draw your attention to an important fact.  It will be my pleasure to introduce to you ... ("The real American popcorn, equally famous in Paris and London, tuppence each packet!” from Vendor in gangway) ... history and life of the ... ("’Buffalo Bill Puzzle,’ one penny!” from another vendor behind) ... impress one fact upon your minds; this is not ... (roar and rattle of passing train) ... in the ordinary or common acceptation of ... ("Puff-puff-puff!” from engine shunting trucks) ...  Many unthinking persons have said ... (Piercing and prolonged scream from same engine.) This is not so.  On the contrary ... (Metallic bangs from trucks.) Men and animals are ... ("Programmes!  Opera-glasses on hire!”) ... purely the creatures of ...

    [Remainder of remarks hopelessly lost amidst the clank of
    coupling chains, whistles, snorts and puffs from shunting
    engine.

An Old Lady in Audience. He has such a beautiful clear voice, we ought to hear every word.  If I were Buffalo BILL, I should positively insist on the trains keeping quiet while the Orator was speaking!

Orator (during the Grand Processional Review).  A Troop of Arapahoe Indians!

    [Band strikes up; a party of painted Indians gallop into
    Arena, uttering little puppy-like barks.

An Artistic Lady (shuddering).  Look at that creature with a raw pink body, and a pea-green face—­it’s too frightful, and such crude yellows!  I wish they could be taught to paint themselves some decent colour!

Her Sister. Really, dear, as far as decency is concerned, I don’t exactly see what difference the mere colour would make.

Her Husband. That isn’t quite what EMILY meant.  She’d like to enamel ’em all in Art shades and drape Liberty scarves round ’em, like terra-cotta drainpipes or wicker-chairs—­eh, EMILY?

Emily (loftily).  Oh, my dear HENRY, I wasn’t speaking to you.  I know what a contempt you have for all that makes a home beautiful!