licitor-General for
Scotland"--phew!--a good mouthful all this, almost as great as "JOHN
RICHARD THOMAS ALEXANDER DWYER," of _Rejected Addresses_--has been
elevated to the Scottish Judicial Bench. Good. The MOIR the Merrier!
TOD is the first half of Tod-dy which is the foundation of whiskey.
Your health, More Toddy! STOR-MOUTH is as good a mouth as any other,
whatever mouth may be chosen to store away more Toddy. And finally,
"DARLING" is a term sometimes lawful, rarely legal, of endearment, and
henceforth in Scotland STORMOUTH not "CHARLIE" is "our DARLING, our
gay Cavalier!"

* * * * *

IN OUR GARDEN.

[Illustration: Illuminated 'A']

A very odd thing. Just as we had got into Our Garden, were, so to
speak, turning up our sleeves to hoe and dig, I have been called
away. It is Mr. G. who has done it. The other day the Member for Sark
and I were out weeding the walk--at least he was weeding, and I was
remarking to him on the healthfulness of out-door occupation, more
especially when pursued on the knees. Up comes the gardener with
something on a pitchfork. Thought at first it was a new development of
the polyanthus. (We are always growing strange things. The Member for
Sark says, "In Our Garden it is the unexpected that happens.") Turned
out to be a post-card. Our gardener is very careful to keep up our
new character. If the missive had been brought to us in the house, of
course it would have been served up on a plate. In the garden it is
appropriately handed about on a pitch-fork.

"My dear TOBY" (this is the post-card), "I'm just going up to
Edinburgh; another Midlothian Campaign; You have been with me every
time; don't desert me now; have something quite new and original to
say on the Irish Question; would like you to hear it. Perhaps you
never heard of Mitchelstown? Been looking up particulars. Mean to
tell the whole story. Will be nice and fresh; come quite a shock on
BALFOUR. Don't fail; Yours ever, W.E.G."

Didn't fail, and here I am, not in Our Garden, but in Edinburgh. Left
the Member for Sark in charge. A little uneasy; never know from day
to day what his well-meant but ill-directed energy may not achieve.
At least the celery will be safe. One day, after I had worn myself out
with watching gardener dig trench, Sark came along, and in our absence
filled it up. Said it looked untidy to have long hole like that
in respectable garden. Supposed we had been laying a drain; quite