en you _are_ educated?

_Nora_ (_puts down dressing-bag_). No, TORVALD, not yet. Only, you
see, I found I had only threepence-halfpenny in my purse, and the
Norwegian theatres are all closed at this hour--and so I thought I
wouldn't leave the cage till to-morrow--after breakfast.

_Helmer_ (_as if to himself_). The greatest miracle of all _has_
happened. My little bird is not in the bush _just_ yet!

[_NORA takes down a showily bound dictionary from the shelf
and begins her education_; HELMER _fetches a bag of macaroons,
sits near her, and tenders one humbly. A pause. NORA
repulses it, proudly. He offers it again. She snatches at
it suddenly, still without looking at him, and nibbles it
thoughtfully as Curtain falls._

THE END (_with Mr. Punch's apologies to the Master_).

* * * * *

MODERN TYPES.

(_BY MR. PUNCH'S OWN TYPE WRITER._)

NO. XXIV.--THE GIVER OF PARTIES.

[Illustration]

It may be that "Party," in the sense of a hospitable entertainment, is
an obsolete word, and that those who speak of "giving a party" prove
themselves, by the mere expression, to be fogeys whom the rushing
stream of London amusements has long since thrown up on the sandy bank
of middle age, there to grow dull and forget that their legs were
ever apt for the waltz, or their digestions able to cope with lobster
mayonnaise at 2 A.M. Yet, though he who thus speaks may not be as
smart as a swell, or as much up to date as a church-parade-goer, the
expression will serve, for it indicates comprehensively enough every
variety of entertainment known to the London Season--the dance, the
dinner, the reception, the music at home, the tea-party, and the
theatre-party, for all these in her benevolence does the Giver of
Parties offer to us, and all these does she find the world of London
eager to accept. Now it would seem, one would imagine, to be the
easiest thing in the world, if only the money be not wanting, to give
a party. A hostess, so someone may say, has but to invite her friends,
to light her rooms, to spread her tables, to set the champagne
flowing, to order an awning, and to hire music and a linkman, and the
thing is done. The result of all this will no doubt be a party--of a
sort, but of a sort far different, however gorgeous it may be, from
the splendid and widely-advertised gatherings which the genuine Giver
of Parties organises. For in the one variety it is just possible th