resh
from Oxford came to Melbourne in the course of a trip round the world to
open up their minds! For fear of a libel suit I may at once say I am not
alluding to the Messrs. Chamberlain. They brought letters of introduction
to Professor S----, who proposed, according to the custom of the place,
to 'show them round.' 'Have you seen the Public Library?' he began. 'No,'
answered the Oxonian. Shall I take you over it?' continued the Professor;
'it is one of the finest in the world, well worth seeing; and we can kill
two birds with one stone by seeing the Museum and National Gallery at the
same time.' 'Well, no, thanks,' was the reply; 'it's awfully good of you,
we know; but I say, the fact is books are books, all the world over, and
pictures are pictures; and as for minerals, I can't say we understand
them--not in our line, you understand.'

The Professor now thought he would try them with something out-of-doors,
and proposed a walk to the Botanical Gardens, which was met with 'Don't
you think it's rather hot for a walk? Besides, to tell the truth, one
garden is very much like another.' 'But these are very large,' persisted
the Professor; 'not scientific gardens like Kew, but capital places to
walk and sit about in. There are a number of flowers there, too, which
you cannot see at home.' Oxonian No. 2, however, came to the breach: 'We
bought a lot of flowers at a shop in Collins Street yesterday, and we are
going to send a hamper of ferns home; so that if you won't think it
uncivil of us to refuse your kindness, we won't take up your time by
going so far.'

Although somewhat abashed, the Professor thought of several other 'lions'
which they might like to see, but was invariably met with the same polite
refusal, till at last he gave it up as a bad job, and turned the
conversation to general subjects. They had taken up their hats, and were
saying good-bye. The Professor, who is a kind-hearted man, and was really
anxious to be of service to the two friends, felt quite vexed with
himself that he could do nothing more than ask them to dine. So, just as
they were parting with the usual mutual expressions of goodwill, he asked
in a despondent, almost prayerful tone: 'Are you quite sure there is;
nothing I can do for you? Pray make use of me if you can, and I shall be
only too delighted.' The reply was in a rather nervous voice from the
younger man, who blushed as he asked the favour: 'Do you know anyone who
has got a lawn-tennis