imagine Miss WINIFRED TAYLOR to have given a remarkably true picture of existence therein; its mixture of academic ambition, sentiment, religious fervour and party spirit seems (as was to be expected) pretty much as we knew it in the masculine camp.  The chief point of difference appears to be that Miss TAYLOR’S heroine, Janet, and her friends (all pleasantly individual) are naturally thrown a good deal more upon themselves than is the case with their more fortunate brothers.  I have no doubt of the book’s success.  Girl-graduates, past, present and to come, will of course buy it; while in that other Oxford, now so happily re-awakening, I can fancy it being read with all the curiosity that naturally attaches to revelations of the unknown land.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Urchin (contemptuously) “HUH!  YER MOTHER TAKES IN WASHIN’!”

Neighbour.  “WELL, YER DIDN’T S’POSE SHE’D LEAVE IT HANGIN’ AHT OVERNIGHT UNLESS YOUR FARVER WAS IN PRISON, DID YER?”]

* * * * *

From a report of the Cippenham inquiry:—­

    “Witness:  ‘Oh, I have a hide like a rhinorocerus.’”—­Evening
    Paper.

This pachyderm is new to us.

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