I question whether the Little Wonder in real life would have so ill-treated any creature; but things are different in dreams; and, as he slept, a smile seemed to come into the shaggy face of this little Irish terrier.

* * * * *

    “In a fierce game at Ilfracombe yesterday morning several
    houses were partially unroofed, and an arcade blown
    in.”—­Scotsman.

Where was the referee?

* * * * *

RECORD RISKS.

(A Sequel to “Narrow Escapes.")

The report that M. PADEREWSKI has been hunted by Nihilists out of Denver has suggested to the Editor of The Musical Mirror the happy thought of circularising a number of prominent musicians with a view to ascertaining the most dangerous experiences they have ever undergone.

Sir FREDERICK BRIDGE writes to say that the worst quarter of a minute he ever spent was while tarpon fishing off the coast of Florida, when a gigantic tarpon, weighing some 400 lbs., leaped into the boat with its mouth wide open.  With great presence of mind the famous organist thrust into the monster’s gaping jaws a full score of STRAUSS’S Elektra, which he was studying between the casts, and the tarpon at once leaped out of the boat and was never seen or heard of again.

Madame MELBA’S most perilous experience was on a tour in the Far East, when the liner in which she was travelling was caught by a tidal wave and hurled with enormous velocity towards the rocky coast of Sumatra.  Noticing that a large whale was following the vessel, and remembering the peculiar susceptibility of these giant mammals to musical sounds, Madame MELBA sang the scena, “Ocean, thou mighty monster,” with such persuasive force that the whale allowed itself to be made fast with a hawser and then towed the liner back safely into the open sea.

Mr. Bamborough (formerly M. Bamberger) recounted the episode, already alluded to in these columns, when he was partially eaten by cannibals in the Solomon Islands; but the details are too harrowing for reproduction, even in a condensed form.  It is interesting to learn, however, that a punitive expedition was despatched by the British Government to avenge the insult, as a result of which Mr. Bamborough was awarded an indemnity of 1,000 bales of copra, 20 tons of sandalwood, and L3,000 worth of tortoiseshell.

Sir FREDERICK COWEN, in reply to the circular, states that the closest call he ever had was when adjudicating at a Welsh Eisteddfod.  In consequence of an unpopular award he was besieged in his hotel by an infuriated crowd and only escaped by changing clothes with a policeman.

Professor Quantock de Banville relates how, while obtaining local colour for his new Choral Symphony, he was attacked by a gorilla in Central Africa, but tamed the mighty simian by the power of his eye.

In conclusion we may note that the only disappointing answer was received from Signor Crinuto, the famous pianist, who replied, “I have never had a close shave, and never intend to have one.”