give a single date. Committee of the House as
before; Irish Estimates as before; "illigant divarsion" as before. And
so, half asleep, the remains of what, a few months ago, had been a
self-respecting House of Commons continued its dreary Session.

_Total for the Week._--Irish Business carried on in Irish manner, and
CHAMBERLAIN booked for Canada.

* * * * *

SOME NOTES AT STARMOUTH.

AN outcast once more! I exchange the blessing invoked on the perfidious
PLAPPER for curse of equal calibre. On--on--like the Wandering Jew, or
the Pilgrim of Love. No rest but the hotel for me! Starmouth landladies
beginning to enter into the humour of the thing--they appear now with a
broad grin, repeated on faces of accepted lodgers at windows. They
evidently do not consider me a sound investment. Meet other homeless
ones, searching--we scowl at one another jealously.

[Illustration: Sound Investment.]

Evening is getting on--which is more than I am. Sinking into a state of
maudlin self-pity. My poor Drama--and all the things I ordered to be
sent in to PLAPPER'S! He, or his lodger, will read by _my_ lamp, bathe
in _my_ bath, feed on my jam--while I ... but I cannot trust myself to
think of it--or Starmouth may lose one of its leading opticians?...
Later--_saved!_ It still seems incredible to me--but I have rooms at
last! At Mrs. SURGE'S--a widow lady, who, as she tells me herself, has
not been in a hurry to put up her card, as she likes "to pick her
lodgers." And she has picked Me--me, the Blighted, the scorned of
Starmouth! No sea-view--but plenty of horsehair. Sunflowers and
mignonette in long front garden; bow-window, and regiment of geraniums
drawn up in pots on little table. Go back, and recover luggage.

Return to Mrs. SURGE'S roof, not without nervous apprehensions--she may
repent, or I might find the house a smoking ruin. Can't get over an idea
that the Fates are pursuing me. However, they seem to be taking a rest
just now. I am free at last to study Starmouth. Hitherto I have had eyes
for nothing but little cards with "Apartments" on them.

No doubt about Starmouth being full. Streets crowded. Most of the young
men promenading in flannels and cricket "blazers," of startling
brilliancy. Children, young girls, and stout matrons in striped linen
yachting-caps. (When you are elderly, and at all stout, you do _not_
appear to advantage in this form of head-dress.) _Chars-a-bancs_, flys,
tricycles