AUSTEN (Tea and most other things).—­This bottomless-cupped bank-paper-white-edged-and-rimmed-with-tape-pink-margin bloom, the reflex of whose never-fading demand notes is velvety black thunder-cloud with lightning-flash six-months-in-the-second-division veinations, has never been known to be too full.  It is supported by a landlordly stalk of the utmost excess-profits-war-profits-minor-profits rigidity.  A decorative, acquisitive and especially captivating rose, and already something more than a popular favourite. 18s. in L1.

SIR THOMAS (Ceylon and India Tea).—­This true sport from the British bull-dog rose has a slightly globular double-hemisphere-popular greatly-desiring-and-deserving-to-be-cupped bloom whose pearly preserved cream flesh is delicately flushed and mottled with tinned salmon and dried apricot.  Rich golden and banking-account stamina, foliage deep navy blue with brass buttons and a superb fragrance of western ocean.  Its marvellous try-try-try-again floriferousness in all weathers is the admiration of all beholders.  Price no object.

* * * * *

From a weather forecast:—­

“General Outlook.—­It appears probable that further expressions will arrive from the westward or north-westward before long, and that after a temporary improvement the weather will again become unsettled; with much cloud and occasional rain.”—­Evening Paper.

In which event further expressions (of a sultry character) may be expected from all round the compass.

* * * * *

“COME UNTO THESE YELLOW SANDS.”

[Illustration:  “COME UNTO THESE YELLOW SANDS AND THEN—­]

[Illustration:  —­TAKE HANDS.”—­[The Tempest, Act I., Sc. 2. ]

* * * * *

QUEEN’S COUNSEL.

The Fairy Queen shook her head in answer to my question.  “No,” she said, “I have no favourite flower.”

She had dropped in after dinner, as was her occasional habit, and at the moment sat perched on a big red carnation which stood in a flower-glass on the top of my desk.

“You see,” she continued, floating across to where I was sitting and lowering her voice confidentially, for there were a good many flowers about—­“you see it would never do.  Just think of the trouble it would cause.  Imagine the state of mind of the lilies if I were to show a preference for roses.  There’s always been a little jealousy there, and they’re all frightfully touchy.  The artistic temperament, you know.  Why, I daren’t even sleep in the same flower two nights running.”

“Yes, I see,” I said.  “It must be very awkward.”

I lapsed into silence; I had had a worrying day and was feeling tired and a little depressed.  The Queen fluttered about the room, pausing a moment on the mantel-shelf for a word or two with her old friend the Dresden china shepherdess.  Then she came back to the desk and performed a brief pas seul on the shining smooth cover of my pass-book.  My mind flew instantly to my slender bank-balance and certain recent foolishnesses.