ave
in my department?"

"Oh, I thought you knew. I leave to you table-manners, tidiness
(that's a tough one), hand-washing (that's a tougher), reading aloud
from Kipling and tucking him up in bed."

"Quite a good list, if by no means a complete one; but in these days
one mustn't be too critical. Anyhow it proves that I must take the boy
back to school."

"It proves just the contrary."

"No," she said, "it proves what ought to be there by leaving it out."

"That," I said, "is a record even for you, Francesca."

"Well, it's logical anyway. How, for instance, could you talk to
the Matron? You'd be utterly lost before you'd been at it for half
a minute."

"Don't you worry about that," I said. "I have accomplishments of which
you don't seem to be aware, and one of them is talking to Matrons at
preparatory schools."

"Anyhow, you're not going to have a chance of showing it off this
time, _because I am going to take the boy back to school_. That's
final."

It was, and in due time Francesca took the boy back. Her account of
the farewell moments was not without a certain amount of pathos,
several other mothers and their boys being involved in the valedictory
scene. Four or five days afterwards, however, we received the
following letter, which put to flight any idea that Frederick might be
pining:--

"I am very happy this term, and I am getting on fairly well in my
work. I like football much better than cricket. I have three or four
times just not got a goal, once it was when I kicked into goal the
goalkeeper (3 st. 4 lb.!) rushed out and kicked it away, and once when
we were playing Blues and Reds, and I was on the Blue side, and I
managed by good luck to get through a crowd of shouting Reds and
followed it up amidst shouts from the Blues and shot it to the Red
goal; but the goalkeeper (a different one) came out and hit it away,
at which I twisted my knee and collapsed (not with pain, because it
wasn't anything, but with anger and _desparation!_) Am I to learn
boxing this term? I am sorry to hear the hens are not behaving well."

I should like to have seen the bold goalkeeper of 3 st. 4 lb. It is a
proud weight.

R. C. L.

* * * * *

YESTERDAY IN OXFORD STREET.

Yesterday in Oxford Street, oh, what d'you think, my dears?
I had the most exciting time I've had for years and years;
The buildings looked so straight and tall, the sky was blue between,
And, riding on a moto