Thursday.—­Really cannot stand this walking up and down stairs.  Shall remain for the future in my bed-room and take exercise on sofa by fireside, as I feel chilly.  Page came in with coals.  Reminded me of Policy of Scuttle.  Spoke of this at some length, and woke him up with difficulty when I had finished.  Felt rather unwell.

Friday.—­Dressing and undressing is certainly needless fatigue, and evidently causes this headache and general seediness.  Shall take exercise in bed.  Felt worse.  Female relatives anxious, and insist on medical attendance.  Assured them I was following the best system, and answered their persistent demands by a short address on Home Rule.

Saturday.—­Felt so bad at five this morning, that Doctor was fetched.  Tried feebly to address him on the Eight Hours’ Question, when he said he never had any time to think how long he worked.  Explained my new system to him.  He said I should myself want a new system to stand such a course of treatment.  Then he pulled me out of bed, and insisted on my walking ten miles as soon as I was dressed.  Felt much better.  Shall abandon politics and become a farmer, having just heard of an infallible system for growing wheat profitably.

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THE “RESTORATION” PERIOD.—­Will the Chairmen of the L.C. & D. and the S.E.  Lines unite their forces?  After the meeting on this subject last week, Sir EDWARD will have lots of reason to listen to.  But apart from every consideration of mal de mer, and “From Calais to Dover,” as the poet sings “’Tis soonest over,” there is not anywhere a better, and we, who have suffered as greatly as the much-enduring Ulysses, venture to assert not anywhere as good a luncheon as at the “Restauration” (well it deserves the title!) of the Calais Station.  Every patriotic travelling Englishman must be delighted to think that some few centuries ago we gave up Calais.  Had it been nowadays in English hands, why it might even now be possessed of a “Refreshment Room” no better than—­any on our side of the Channel, for there is no necessity to particularise.  From Dover to Calais is the shortest and best restorative’d route for the traveller, whether ill or well, at sea.

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MOTTOES for the new Lord MAYOR. “Nil obstet,” “Nil fortius,” and, from HORACE, “Nil amplius oro.”  This, in answer to thousands of correspondents, is our last word on the subject; so after this (except on the 9th of November), we say—­nil.

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SUCH A “LIGHT OPERA!”

[Illustration:  “Pity a Poo’ Bar-itone!”]