“REGRETS AND GREAVES.”—­But for a recent trial, who of the outside public would even have guessed that the unromantic and quite Bozzian name of “Mr. and Mrs. TILKINS” meant the clever musician, Mr. IVAN CARTEL and the charming and accomplished actress and soprano, Miss GERALDINE ULMAR?  The TILKINSES are to be congratulated on their winning the recent action of Tilkins v. Greaves with the award of one thousand pounds damage, which is the price the transmitter of scandal to the New York World has had to pay for his industry.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THE OTHER “WESTMINSTER STABLE.”

POLITE STRANGER.  “I BEG YOUR PARDON, SIR:  WOULD YOU KINDLY INFORM ME
IF HE’S BEEN—­’GOT AT’?”

NOBLE OWNER.  “H’M!—­AH!—­WOULDN’T THE BACKERS OF DISSOLUTION LIKE TO
KNOW!”]

* * * * *

OUR COOKERY-BOOKERY.

Most Cookery-Books are bosh.  I have read them all—­from the [Greek:  Archimageiros] of FRANCATELLIDES (1904 B.C.) to the Ayer Akberi:  or Million Recipes of RUNG JUNG JELLYBAG, compiled in Sanskrit, Pali, Singhali, Urdu, Hindustani, Bengali, and the Marowsky language, for the “Kitchens measureless to man” (see COALRIDGE), of the Golden Dome of Kubla Khan; from Mrs. GLASSE to Dr. KITCHENER; from UDE to ALEXANDRE DUMAS; from CAREME to Mrs. MARKHAM (who is said to have adopted the pseudonym of “RUNDELL” for her culinary mistress-piece); and from Miss ACTON (who was also the distinguished authoress of Austen Fryers, Pies and Prejudice, Sense and Saltcellars, &c.) to SOYER.  The only modern culinary manual which (with one exception) is worth anything is by Mrs. DE SALIS, whose name has a happy affinity to that of The Only Trustworthy Authority as a Cookery-Bookerist, and whose immortal contributions to mageiristic lore are appearing weekly in Sal——­ (Here the M.S. is firmly scored out by the Editorial blue pencil; but, faintly legible, is, “circulation, 2,599,862-3/8.") From this “Golden Treasury” of gormandising I have been permitted to cull a few recipes.  Here are two or three for scholastic bed-room suppers.  The first will be invaluable in Seminaries for Young Ladies:—­

[Illustration]

Saucissons en Petite Toilette.—­Purchase your sausages on the sly, and keep them carefully in your glove-box, or your handkerchief case till wanted.  Prick them all over with a hair-pin before cooking.  Sprinkle them lightly with violet powder, and fry in cold cream (bear’s grease will do as well) on the back of your handglass over the bed-room candle.  If the glass gets broken, say it was the housemaid, or the cat did it.  Turn with the curling-tongs.  When done to a rich golden brown, put your sausages on a neatly folded copy of S——­ (Editorial blue pencil again), and serve hot.  Thin bread and butter, plum-cake or shortbread may accompany this appetising dish, and a partially ripe apple munched between each sausage will certainly give it a zest; but it would perhaps be as well not to eat too many chocolate creams afterwards.