ed garden-seats of the exterior. As the additional weight to be
drawn in consequence of these improvements was considerable, it had been
considered advisable to increase the number of horses to each vehicle
from two to six. (_Groans._) New routes had been selected--for instance,
special services of carriages had been arranged up and down the Belgrave
Road, the Mall, Hammersmith, the Upham Park Road, Chiswick, and round
Brompton Square. Then he might say----

A SHAREHOLDER. We know all this, but how about the dividend? (_Cheers._)

The CHAIRMAN regretted the interruption. However, as the meeting wished
to enter into the subject of finance--(_cheers and cries of_ "We
do")--he might say, that no dividend would be declared this half-year,
but----

At this point of the proceedings there was a rush for the platform, and,
shortly afterwards, the meeting noisily separated.

We are informed, that the inquest upon the bodies of the Chairman and
his co-Directors, will be held early next week.

* * * * *

[Illustration: SYMPATHETIC ANSWERS TO KIND INQUIRIES.

_Young Masham (leaving Cards)._ "IS ANYONE ILL HERE NOW?"

_Footman (fresh from the Country)._ "I'M DOING PRETTY WELL AT PRESENT,
THANK YOU; BUT 'ER LADYSHIP HASN'T YET SHOOK OFF HER GRIP."]

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

Extracted From the Diary of Toby, M.P.

[Illustration: A Distinguished Stranger.]

_House of Commons, Monday, March 3._--OLD MORALITY, decently dressed in
black, stood at table to-night, reading through the space of an hour his
discourse on Report of Parnell Commission. A decorous, almost funereal
function. J. G. TALBOT enjoyed it thoroughly. "So like being in church
on Sunday afternoon," he said. "Wish OLD MORALITY could have seen his
way to put on white neck-tie, and brought his notes bound up in black
cover."

Service proceeded very well without these details. JEMMY LOWTHER early
fell victim to gentle influence of occasion. Long before OLD MORALITY
had reached his fourthly, JAMES, with head reverently bent on his chest,
sweetly slept; dreamt he was a boy again, sitting in the family pew at
Easington-cum-Liverton, listening to his revered grandfather bubbling
forth orthodoxy. Up in Distinguished Strangers' Gallery sat a little boy
on his father's knee. Long he listened to the gentle murmur, broken now
and then by a yawn from a back bench, or the rustling of the manuscript
as