The meeting of the Council came off in the large hall of the Billsbury Beaconsfield Club.  TOLLAND was in the chair, and made a long speech in introducing me.  I didn’t take in a word of it, as I was repeating my peroration to myself all the time.  My speech went off pretty well, except that I got mixed up in the middle, and forgot that blessed story.  However, when I got into the buttering part, it took them by storm.  I warmed old GLADSTONE up to-rights, and asked them to contrast the state of England now with what it was when he was in power.  “Hyperion to a Satyr,” I said.  Colonel CHORKLE, in proposing afterwards that I was a fit and proper person to represent Billsbury, said, “Mr. PATTLE’s able and convincing speech proves ’im not only a master of English, but a consummate orator, able to wield the harmoury” (why he put the “h” there I don’t know) “of wit and sarcasm like a master. I’m not given to boasting,” he continued. “I never indulge in badinage” (query, braggadocio?); “but, with such a Candidate, we must win.”  JERRAM seconded the resolution, which was carried nem. con. Must get local newspapers, to show to mother.  She’ll like that.  Shall go back to London to-morrow.

* * * * *

“FORTNIGHTLY” V. SO-CALLED “NINETEENTH CENTURY.”—­Change of Author’s name.  Mr. FREDERIC HARRISON to be known in future as “FREDERIC HARRASIN’ KNOWLES.”

(Signed) [Greek:  Phrederik]

* * * * *

MR. PUNCH’S POCKET IBSEN.

(CONDENSED AND REVISED VERSION BY MR. P.’S OWN HARMLESS IBSENITE.)

NO.  II.—­NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE (ET DIKKISVOeIT).

ACT II.

The Room, with the cheap Art-furniture as before—­except that the candles on the Christmas-tree have guttered down and appear to have been lately blown out.  The cotton-wool frogs and the chenille monkeys are disarranged, and there are walking things on the sofa. NORA alone.

Nora (putting on a cloak and taking it off again).  Bother KROGSTAD!  There, I won’t think of him.  I’ll only think of the costume ball at Consul STENBORG’s, over-head, to-night, where I am to dance the Tarantella all alone, dressed as a Capri fisher-girl.  It struck TORVALD that, as I am a matron with three children, my performance might amuse the Consul’s guests, and, at the same time, increase his connection at the Bank.  TORVALD is so practical. (To Mrs. LINDEN, who comes in with a large cardboard box.) Ah, CHRISTINA, so you have brought in my old costume? Would you mind, as my husband’s new Cashier, just doing up the trimming for me?

Mrs. L. Not at all—­is it not part of my regular duties? (Sewing.) Don’t you think, NORA, that you see a little too much of Dr. RANK?

Nora.  Oh, I couldn’t see too much of Dr. RANK!  He is so amusing—­always talking about his complaints, and heredity, and all sorts of indescribably funny things.  Go away now, dear; I hear TORVALD. [Mrs. LINDEN goes.  Enter TORVALD from the Manager’s room. NORA runs trippingly to him.