sorry if I've hurt you. But I always
assumed that you did."

The simultaneous ringing of the three telephones warned me that my time
was up and I rose to go.

"Good-bye," he said, "Good-bye. You know where to go if you want
anything, don't you? No matter what it is--ties, socks, dress--suits,
scent, afternoon tea, civility, perfection. You know where to go?"--and
he bowed me out.

And that is how I met Callisthenes.

* * * * *

[Illustration: "'Arf a mo, Chawley; let's wait an' see 'im sit down."]

* * * * *

BLUDYARD.

Mr. Rudyard Kipling's few remarks, made beneath the blue sky of the
Empire at Tunbridge Wells, have not yet lost their effect. The famous
orator's letter-bag is daily crowded with communications from total
strangers who have striven in vain to resist the impulse to tell him
what they think of him and his speech.

"I understand from the local paper that you're an author," writes one
correspondent from Haggerston; "if you can write like you can speak,
your books ought to sell in hundreds."

"Your speech was quite good," writes another, "so far as it went; the
only fault I have to find with it is that it was not strong enough, Sir,
not strong enough. The blackguards!"

An envelope of pale purple, gently perfumed, contained that well-known
work (now in its tenth thousand), "Gentle Words, and How to Use Them. By
Amelia Papp." We understand that the receipt of this famous pamphlet had
a tremendous effect upon Mr. Kipling.

The speech has put courage into the heart of a young literary man known
to us. "I have long yearned to break away from the weaklings who can do
no more than call a spade a spade," he said the other day. "I feel that
I now have a master's authority for doing so. In gratitude I can do no
less than send Mr. Kipling a copy of my new book, _The Seven D's_, when
it is ready."

"I cannot be too grateful for your impressive speech," wrote a lady from
Balham. "For many weeks now I consider that my butcher has been sending
joints that are perfectly disgraceful, and I have been quite at a loss
to know how to deal with him. But thanks to your great utterance I was
able to get together just the words I wanted, and on Tuesday last I sent
him _such_ a letter. You will be glad to know that Wednesday's shoulder
was excellent."

An anonymous correspondent, dating from a temporary address at
Limehouse, has written, "Why don't you