sh and brilliant--notably, "_A Grey Sunset._" If you are
subject to _mal-de-mer_, his seas will make you onaisy. The President,
Sir JAMES LINTON, has only two small pictures, both cleverly painted,
but each may be described as a little LINTON; so let us give him a
little hint on the subject; like OLIVER TWIST, we ask for more. "_Too
Many Cooks_," by BURTON BARBER--a Barber who knows how to dress hair.
See the dogs' coats. Miss ETHEL WRIGHT is not very far wrong in her
picture of a fair _canoiste_, and Mr. W.L. WYLLIE is both artful and
wily in his rendering of a "_A Sou' Wester_." "_An Old Harbour in
Sussex_" gives distinct evidence that LEWIS (C.J.) has been moved to
the coast, and it seems to be a move in the right direction. In "_The
Red Canoe_," Mr. ALFRED PARSONS delivers an eloquent sermon on the
joys of life on the Thames.

The Royal Society of British Artists have fewer pictures than usual
at their new show. Quality better than common. Mr. F. BRANGWYN's
"_Funeral at Sea_" is excellent. Mr. R. MACHELL's "_Lakshmi_," not
easy to understand. It might be "Lakshmi, or the Lost Bathing-dress."
She might certainly say, "I lacks my _costume de bain_."
"_Durham_"--good landscape by Mr. YGLESIAS. Mr. NELSON DAWSON in his
"_Sunset Breeze_," gives us real sea and good seamanship. In "_Trying
it Over_," Mr. LOMAX has tried it over to some purpose, and has
produced a successful little picture of an enthusiastic flautist. Mr.
G.F. WATTS sends "_Lord Tennyson_." But why in ermine? The Laureate is
quite good enough for us without his Peer's robes. What did HARRY THE
EIGHTH say concerning HOLBEIN? Anything more to see? Of course there
is. But what is my text? "Pars about Pictures." And so I pass about.
_I_ mustn't linger, but remain

Yours par-ticularly,

OLD PAR.

* * * * *

GOLF VICTOR!

Sir Golf and Sir Tennis are fighting like mad--
Now Sir Tennis is blown, and Sir Golf's right above him,
And his face has a look that is weary and sad,
As he hastily turns to the ladies, who love him,
But the racket falls from him, he totters, and swirls,
As he hears them cry, "Golf is the game for the girls!"

* * * * *

The girls crave for freedom, they cannot endure
To be cramped up at Tennis in courts that are poky,
And they're all of them certainly, perfectly sure
That they'll never again touch "that horrible Croquet,"
Where it's quit