It is hoped that at the Alhambra Matinee on November 16th one thousand pounds will be raised to complete the special pension fund for actors, which is to be a tribute of affection to the memory of Mr. SYDNEY VALENTINE, who, in the words of Mr. MCKINNEL, “did more for the rank and file of the theatrical profession than any actor, living or dead.”

* * * * *

="The Dog it was who Died."=

“At Dovey Board of Conservators at Barmouth it was decided to ask Major Dd.  Davies to hunt the district with his otter hounds, and failing this the water bailiffs themselves should attempt to stamp them out.”—­Welsh Paper.

Major DD.  DAVIES’ answer is not known to us, but we assume that he said, “Well, I’m Dd.”

* * * * *

    “Royal Surrey Theatre.  Grand Opera.  To-night, 8, Cav. and
    Pag.”—­Daily Paper.

More evidence of the paper-shortage.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Affluent Sportsman (after a long blank draw). “NOW I BET YOU WE’LL FIND AS SOON AS I LIGHT ONE OF MY HALF-DOLLAR CIGARS.” Friend. “DON’T YOU THINK WE MIGHT MAKE A CERTAINTY OF IT IF I LIT ONE TOO?”]

* * * * *

=OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.=

(By Mr. Punch’s Staff of Learned Clerks.)

I do not think that even the most phlegmatic of Englishmen could read Francis and Riversdale Grenfell:  a Memoir (NELSON) without a quickening of the pulses.  This is not to suggest that Mr. JOHN BUCHAN has sought to make an emotional appeal—­indeed he has told the tale of these devoted brothers with a simplicity beyond praise—­but it is a tale so fine that it must fill the heart, even of those who were strangers to them, with joy and pride.  I beg you to read the memoir for yourselves, and see how and why it was that these twin brothers, from Eton onwards, radiated cheerfulness and a happy keenness wherever they went.  “Neither,” Mr. BUCHAN writes, “could be angry for long, and neither was capable of harshness or rancour.  Their endearing grace of manner made a pleasant warmth in any society which they entered; and since this gentleness was joined to a perpetual glow of enthusiasm the effect was triumphant.  One’s recollection was of something lithe, alert, eager, like a finely-bred greyhound.”  Those of us who were not personally acquainted with FRANCIS and RIVERSDALE GRENFELL will, after reading this Memoir and the Preface by their uncle, Field-Marshal Lord GRENFELL, seem to know them intimately.  FRANCIS won the first V.C. gained in the War, but when he read the announcement of it in The Gazette his brother was already killed and his joy of life was quenched.  “I feel,” he wrote to his uncle, “that I know so many who have done and are doing so much more than I have been able to do for England.  I also feel very strongly