WELSH MEMBER.

    Sir,—­If you continue to publish cartoons with a pronounced
    Radical bias I am afraid you will lose at least one.

    OLD SUBSCRIBER.

Sir,—­I object to the advertisements.  I think it would be a good move if you were to drop these, increase the number of pages, and reduce the price to a halfpenny.  In taking this course you would have the support of several influential members of my parish, in addition to myself.

    Yours faithfully,

    A COUNTRY PARSON.

    Sir,—­What your paper needs is light relief.  Could you not
    give us a little humour now and then?

    Yours faithfully,

    A POPULAR WRITER.

    P.S.—­The last MS. you returned to me was very much crumpled. 
    Please be more careful in the future.

Sir,—­I think it a pity you publish jokes.  In this age, when all things—­even our dear Bishops—­are considered fit subjects for jest, we could do with one serious-minded paper.  Trusting you will think this over,

    Yours faithfully,

    HITCHY KIKUYU.

    Sir,—–­You should see our American comic papers.

    Yours faithfully,

    WASHINGTON G. BUSTER.

    Sir,—­I find the blank pages at the back of the cartoons very
    useful for making notes on.  Could you not extend this feature?

    Yours faithfully,

    PROFESSOR.

Sir,—­I think you would do well to cater more for women—­who, after all, are a rising sex.  A page each week devoted to modern fashions would not be at all out of place in your paper.

    Yours faithfully,

    EVE.

Sir,—­In my opinion your paper is the cleverest in the country—­nay in the world.  Nowhere else is such exquisite literary discrimination shown.  I enclose a small contribution for your consideration, and am,

    Yours faithfully,

    CONSTANT READER.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “TWELFTH NIGHT” (JAN. 6).

Mr. Lloyd George (as Malvolio).  “Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused.”—­Act IV., Scene 2.]

* * * * *

THE PAPER-CHASE.

I arrived at home at three o’clock on a frosty afternoon.  “Now,” thought I, “I shall have a quiet time before tea and shall be able to write a few letters and start my article.”  It was a dream of usefully employed leisure, but it didn’t last long.

I found the whole family, with the addition of a little boyfriend, gathered together in a very purposeful and alarming way in the library There was about them an undefinable air of the chase, for they were all well-booted and belted, and Peggy had a large clasp-knife dangling at her waist.  “It is for the hare,” she said, “when we catch him.”