in the view
that I want him to take, "I suppose I've got a slight chill, and this
afternoon I shall be able to wrap up and get to town?" "Oh, dear, no,"
replies Doctor. "You'll take Ammoniated Quinine at once." "You don't
mean to say that it's----" "Influenza?" he asks. I nod. Yes, that is
exactly what it is, they have all got it in the house, he tells me, and
no one will be able to leave for the next ten days! How pleasant for our
hosts! I did not believe in Influenza. I do now. Its French name is _La
Grippe_. _Je suis grippe._ This means more than a weak name like
"Influenza."

* * * * *

CALLS FOR THE PUBLIC PROSECUTOR?

NOT for the first time, and not for the last, _Mr. Punch_ asks, where is
The Public Prosecutor? Why is it that the observations of Mr. Justice
BUTT and Sir HENRY HAWKINS are disregarded? Very much "for the public
benefit" was the sentence of one year's imprisonment passed on the
journalist who, without one tittle of trustworthy evidence, attempted to
blast the character of an innocent man. But is it not still more for the
public benefit that professional perjurers, suborners of witnesses, and
fabricators of false evidence--the suborners first and foremost--should
be publicly proceeded against, and treated with the utmost rigour of the
law? WINSER, the cabman, who gave his false evidence so gaily in the
Thirkettle Case, has been had up, and sentenced. Having dealt with
WINSER, it is only a short step from WINSER to SLOUGH--but perhaps such
a slough of muck, that it wants the pluck of a Hercules in the Augaean
stable to commence operations, and a _deus ex-machina_--that is, the
Public Prosecutor from the Treasury--to see that the proceedings are not
abortive. Oh, where, and Oh, where is The Public Prosecutor?

* * * * *

STATESMEN AT HOME.

DCXLII. THE MARQUIS OF SALISBURY, K.G., AT HATFIELD HOUSE.

[Illustration]

ARRIVING at the Great Northern Station at King's Cross, and desirous of
testing the culture of the clerk at the Booking-office, you ask for a
first-class return for Hetfelle. The clerk mechanically puts out his
hand towards the receptacle for tickets, drops it, stares at you, and
says Hetfelle is not on their line. You insist that it must be, being
clearly set forth in _Domesday Book_. The clerk shows a disposition to
speak alliteratively but disrespectfully of _Domesday_, and, as the
crowd presses at your heels, you yie