ich he had been sitting all through dinner.

[Illustration: MY DESIGN FOR SETTE OF ODD VOLUMES. I WAS A GUEST.]

"There," he said, "that's an odd volume if you like--that's something
unique. It contains 9,987 hotel bills--a chronicle (of my hotel
expenses) for two-thirds of the present century."

Later he came round to me. He assured me that he didn't catch my name
when he asked for it, but when I was speaking he recognised me and was
glad to have the opportunity of making my acquaintance. It appeared he
had bought many hundreds of "Romps" books for children and given them
to Children's Hospitals and other institutions. So he had besides an
odd volume a good heart--and what is more surprising, a watch in every
pocket! Watch-collecting was his hobby, and, like a conjuror, he
produced them from the most unexpected and mysterious places. One
belonged to the Emperor Maximilian, and had in its case moving figures
to strike the time. I confess I wished he had exchanged watches with me
in place of names. His name, by the way, was Holborn; he was a
well-known City tea-merchant.

[Illustration: MY DESIGN (REDUCED) FOR THE DINNER OF YE RED LYON
CLUBBE.]

[Illustration: A DISTINGUISHED "LYON."]

When I visited Leeds for the British Association Meeting, I was made a
member of Ye Red Lyon Clubbe, a dining club which I understand meets
once a year as a relief to the daily monotony of the serious business of
the Association--in fact, "for one night only" the British Ass. assumes
the Lion's skin. To see learned Professors who have been dilating for
hours and days on the most abstruse scientific subjects, with the most
solemn faces, amidst the dullest surroundings, suddenly appear wagging
their dress-coat tails to represent the tail of the hungry lion, and
emitting the most extraordinary mournful, growling sounds, the nearest
approach at imitating the roar of the lion, and otherwise behaving like
a lot of schoolboys on the night before the holidays, is certainly a
scene not familiar to the thousands who belong to the British
Association.

Burlesque-scientific speeches are made after dinner, and although there
are generally some practical jokes in chemical illustrations, the merry
wits do not tamper with the dinner itself further than preparing a most
excellent burlesque menu, which I take the liberty of here introducing:

JOURNAL
OF
SECTIONAL PROCEEDINGS.

Issued Tuesday Evening, September 9th, 1890, at 5