a little
boy to sign an affidavit to the effect that he was so happy at Dr.
BARNARDO'S Home, Sweet Home, and that, wherever he might wander, there
was really no place on earth like Dr. BARNARDO'S Home, may remind
Dickensian students of a somewhat analogous method apparently adopted
by _Mr. Squeers_ when, on his welcome return to Dotheboys Hall, he
publicly announced that "he had seen the parents of some boys, and
they're so glad to hear how their sons are getting on, that there's
no prospect at all of their going away, which, of course, is a very
pleasant thing to reflect upon for all parties." The conduct of such
parents or relatives who send children or permit them to be sent to
Dr. BARNARDO'S Home, Sweet Home, where, at all events, they are well
fed and cared for, bears some resemblance to that of _Graymarsh's_
maternal aunt, who was "short of money, but sends a tract instead, and
hopes that _Graymarsh_ will put his trust in Providence," and also
to that of _Mobb's_ "mother-in-law," who was so disgusted with
her stepson's conduct (for DICKENS meant step-mother when he wrote
"mother-in-law"--an odd _lapsus calami_ never subsequently corrected)
that she "stopped his halfpenny a-week pocket-money, and had given a
double-bladed knife with a corkscrew in it to the Missionaries, which
she had bought on purpose for him." We don't blame Dr. BARNARDO--much;
but we do blame these weak-knee'd parents and guardians, who
apparently don't know their own minds. In the recent case which was
sarcastically treated by the Judge, Dr. B. found that he could buy
GOULD too dear.

SOMETHING LIKE A REVOLUTION!

_(From Our Own Correspondent on the Spot.)_

[Illustration: Our Correspondent at Breakfast.]

_Samol Plazo_, 8 A.M.--My _plat_ of _egsibaconi_ has just been knocked
out of the hands of my servant, PATPOTATO, by a bullet. My man (who
is of Irish extraction) thinks that the long-expected revolution
must have commenced; "for," as he argues, "when everything is down,
something is sure to be up." I think so too. I am now going to
Government House. If I don't get this through, make complaint at the
Post Office, for it will be their fault not mine.

9 A.M.--Am now at Head Quarters. Not much trouble getting here. Came
by a _bussi_, a local conveyance drawn by two horses, and much used by
the humbler classes. On our road one of the steeds and the roof of the
_bussi_ were carried away by a shell, but as I was inside this caused
me little