those interested may be able to come to
an immediate decision as to their utility. Do you hear, Sir? Adieu!
[_Exit._

(_And if the SECRETARY of STATE for WAR is a wise man, he
will act upon the hint thus offered him._)

* * * * *

[Illustration: GRAND OLD ENERGY.

[It is stated that Mr. GLADSTONE feels very much the want of exercise
since his return to Parliamentary duties.]]

* * * * *

DREAMS.

[Mr. JOHN MORLEY having said that he would be sorry for the
country whose young men ceased to dream dreams, Lord RANDOLPH
CHURCHILL twitted him with having described the Progressive
party as young men who dream dreams, and added, "They are
words which I will never let die."]

Dreams, my dear Lord? Well, there are dreams _and_ dreams,
Are those of BURNS much worse than those of WEMYSS?
Are WESTMINSTER's vain visions, though mature
The dreamer, less absurd or more obscure
Than those of some "young man" who dares to hope
That he with crowded London's ills can cope?
"Behold this dreamer cometh!" So of old
The sons of JACOB, envious, scornful, cold,
And fearful for their privilege of birth
And of possession, in derisive mirth,
Cried at young JOSEPH's coming. A "young man,"
O reverend oracle! Yet his wit outran,
His wisdom far outsoared, for all their boast,
The _nous_ collective of the elder host;
And PHARAOH, when his "wise men" vainly schemed,
Found statesmanship in a young man who dreamed.
You will not let them die? Well, as you list!
The words, Sir, with a Machiavellian twist,
Tickle the ears of those smart word-fence blinds,
And garbled catch-words win unwary minds,
And, maybe, witless votes. Poor London dreams
Of--many things most horrible to WEMYSS!
The nightmare-incubus of old abuse
Propertied privilege, expense profuse
Of many lives for one, the dead-hand's grip
On the slow generations, the sharp whip
Of a compulsory poverty, the gloom
Of that high-rated den, miscalled a Home!
All these it knows, and many miseries more,
And dreams of--Betterment! You'll "never let die.
JOHN MORLEY's words?" You cannot, though you try.
In vain 'gainst dreaming youth you feign to scream,
Because you're yet a Young Man--and you Dream!

* * * * *

[Illustration: VERY LITERAL.

_The Major_. "NO DOUBT YOU'RE VERY FOND OF ANTIQUES, MISS E