the other. Why a Tunnel? Also wants to dig for gold in
Park. Ask him, if there's any reason to suppose gold exists there? He
says you never can tell what you may come to if you bore long enough.
"At all events, even if no gold there, the boring useful if at any
time I feel inclined for a Tunn----" Go in. WATKIN _has_ bored long
enough already.

_Friday._--STEPHEN drops in, and says "new Hawarden
Cathedral"--_really_ built to accommodate people who come to hear
me read Lessons, only STEPHEN thinks it's his sermons that are the
attraction--"will soon he finished." I suggest that he should have
Welsh "intermediate" services now and then. STEPHEN says "_he_ doesn't
know Welsh, and can't see why Welsh people can't drop their horrible
tongue at once, and all speak English." Pained, Tell him _he_ needn't
conduct service--any Welsh-speaking clergyman would do. STEPHEN
replies that if he introduced Welsh service, "villa-residents would
boycott the Cathedral altogether." Well, supposing they do? STEPHEN
retorts that "I had better have an Irish service at once, and get
PARNELL up to read the Lessons." Something in the idea. Must think it
over.

_Saturday._--My usual holiday. Fifteen speeches. Park literally
crammed. Excursionists, colliers, salt-miners, villa-residents, and
Chester Liberals, all seem to find locality tremendously healthy. All
enjoying themselves thoroughly. Wish _I_ was. Worn-out in evening.
Begin to wonder what Park and Castle would fetch, if I were to go and
settle in Hebrides to escape mob.

_Sunday._--Escorted by two regiments of mounted Volunteers to Church.
Volunteers have great difficulty in securing a passage. Have to use
butts of their muskets on more impulsive spectators. Curious that just
at this point I should Remember Mitchelstown. Must try and get over
the habit. Lessons as usual. Find a crushed primrose between the
pages, evidently put there on purpose. Those villa-residents again!
Surely DREW might inspect the lectern before service commences! Home,
and think seriously of Hebrides.

* * * * *

ON THE SPOT.

(_By a Practical Sportsman._)

The spot for me all spots above
In this wide world of casual lodgers,
Is not the nook sacred to love;
The "cot beside a rill" of ROGER'S.
'Tis not the spot which TOMMY MOORE
Praised in "_The Meeting of the Waters_."
Avoca's Vale my soul would bore;
I should prefer more lively quarters.
Thy "lit