["The way in which individual taste is allowed to assert
    itself lends a curious charm to the present modes.”—­Fashion
    Note.]

  This is the finish, Josephine. 
    Through every swift sartorial change
  Constant and true my love has been,
    Nor showed the least desire to range. 
  The hobble only brought to me
    These thoughts with consolation laden:—­
  “Lo, this is Fashion’s fell decree;
  One must not blame the maiden.

  “It is not hers this hideous choice;
    She blindly follows Fashion’s lead,
  And deference to a ruling voice
    Proclaims her just the wife I need. 
  Nought questioning, she answers to
    That voice, as soldiers to a trumpet;”
  And thus I choked the thought that you
    Were barmy on the crumpet.

  But now unhappy doubts intrude
    To bid my satisfaction shrink;
  For Fashion in a gracious mood
    Allows her devotees to think. 
  Since for your present garb, it seems,
    The mode is not to blame in toto,
  This is the end of love’s young dreams
    (Dear, you may keep my photo).

* * * * *

    “Of course, there is a dress parade, with some wonderful
    dresses, but if it had been only a parade it would not have
    been less interesting.”—­Daily News.

It would have been more interesting—­but we hardly expected The Daily News to say so.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THE HOLIDAY ENTERTAINERS.

Extract from Mr. Herbert Stodge’s letter to his sister. “WE WERE GLAD TO HAVE OUR NEPHEW AND NIECE WITH US, BUT, FRANKLY, THEY ARE TOO SOLEMN.

“WE TOOK THEM TO THE PANTOMIME;

THEY CAME OUT GOLFING WITH US;

AND WE ALLOWED THEM TO SIT UP LATE,

BUT THE ONLY TIME THEY SMILED WAS WHEN THEY SAID GOOD-BYE.”]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  AT OUR LOCAL FANCY CARNIVAL.

Individual in Tights.  “I SAY, THIS PLACE IS BEASTLY WARM—­I THINK I’LL CUT OFF HOME.”

The One with the Scythe.  “I THINK I WILL ALSO.  I WONDER WHAT THE TIME IS?”]

* * * * *

THE SUBSCRIPTION.

Charles, when our protest was lodged, merely replied that our favour of the 10th inst. was to hand, and that he really could not see his way to moving further in the matter.  Let me explain the present extent of Charles’s movement.

Miss Donelan, who ought to have known better, had allowed herself to be saddled with a thing called a Branch subscription list on behalf of the St. Nicholas New Year Offering.

Having exploited the probables and possibles she finally handed the document on to me with instructions to tout it round among my friends.  (This is the sort of thing you get nowadays for placing your life at a young woman’s disposal.)