rances in the houses of the titled, one
would say that the hospitality of the peerage was not a thing to make any
great rush for....

But that would be to forget the butler and the three footmen. Even a Duke
cannot have everything. And what his _chef_ may lack in skill his butler
more than makes up for in impassivity.

A POETRY RECITAL

It has always been the privilege of Art to be patronized by Wealth and
Rank. Indeed, if we literary and artistic strugglers were not asked out
to afternoon tea sometimes by our millionaire acquaintances, it is
doubtful if we should be able to continue the struggle. Recently a new
(and less expensive) method of entertaining Genius has become fashionable
in the best circles, and the aspiring poet is now invited to the house of
the Great, not for the purpose of partaking of bodily refreshment
himself, but in order that he may afford spiritual refreshment to others.
In short, he is given an opportunity of reciting his own works in front
of the Fair, the Rich and the Highly Born, and making what he can out of
it in the way of advertisement.

Let us imagine that we have been lucky enough to secure an invitation to
one of Lady Poldoodle's Poetry At-Homes, at her charming little house in
Berkeley Square.

The guests are all waiting, their eyes fixed in eager anticipation on the
black-covered throne at the farther end of the room, whereon each poet
will sit to declaim his masterpiece, when suddenly Lord Poldoodle is
observed to be making his way cautiously towards a side-door. Fortunately
he is stopped in time, and dragged back to his seat next to the throne,
from which he rises a moment later to open the proceeding.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he says, "we are met here this afternoon in order
to listen to some of our younger poets who will recite from their own
works. So far, I have always managed to avoid--so far, I have been
unavoidably prevented from attending on these occasions, but I understand
that the procedure is as follows. Each poet will recite a short sample of
his poetry, after which, no doubt, you will go home and order from your
bookseller a complete set of his works."

Lady Poldoodle goes quickly over to him and whispers vigorously.

"I find I am wrong," says our host. "Full sets of the author's
works can be obtained on the way out. There is, however, no
compulsion in the matter, and, if you take my advice--well, well,
let us get on. Our first poet"--here he puts on hi