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[Illustration:  CYCLING NOTES.

He. “DO YOU BELONG TO THE PSYCHICAL SOCIETY?”

She. “NO; BUT I SOMETIMES GO OUT ON MY BROTHER’S MACHINE!”]

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LEAVES FROM A CANDIDATE’S DIARY.

March 20.  “George Hotel,” Billsbury.—­Arrived here yesterday afternoon.  Mother made up her mind to come with me, being very anxious, she said, to hear one of my splendid speeches.  She brought luggage enough to last for a week, and insisted on taking her poodle Carlo, who was an awful nuisance, in the train.  He growled horribly at old TOLLAND and BLISSOP when they came to see me at the Hotel before dinner.  Very awkward.  TOLLAND wanted to put before me the state of the case with regard to registration expenses.  The upshot was that the Candidate is expected to subscribe L80 a year to the Association for this purpose, which I eventually agreed to do.  Found fourteen letters waiting for me.  No. 1 was from Miss POSER, the Secretary of the Billsbury Women’s Suffrage League, asking me to receive a small deputation on the question, and to lay my views before them.  No. 2 from the Anti-Vaccination League, stating that a deputation had been appointed to meet me, in order to learn my views, and requesting me to fix a date.  No. 3 and No. 4, from two local lodges of Oddfellows, each declaring it to be of the highest importance that I should become an Oddfellow and proposing dates for my initiation.  Nos. 5, 6 and 7 were from Secretaries of funds for the restoration or building of Churches and Chapels, appealing for subscriptions.  Nos. 8, 9, and 10, from three more local Cricket Clubs, who have elected me an Honorary Member, and want subscriptions.  No. 11 from a Children’s Meat Tea Fund.  No. 12 asked me to subscribe to a Bazaar, and to attend its opening in June.  No. 13, from the local Fire Brigade, and No. 14 from the Secretary of the Local Society for improving the Breed of Bullfinches, recommending this “national object” to my favourable notice.  Shall have to keep a Secretary, likewise a book of accounts.  Where is it all going to end?

The Mass Meeting went off well enough.  The Assembly Rooms were crammed.  (The Meteor says, with its usual accuracy and good taste, “The attendance was small, the proceedings were dull.  A wonderful amount of stale Jingoism was afterwards swept up by the caretakers from the floor.  Our Conservative friends are so wasteful.”) I was adopted as Candidate almost unanimously, only ten hands being held up against me.  One or two questions were asked—­one about local option, which rather stumped me—­but I managed to express great sympathy with the Temperance party without, I hope, offending publicans.