queer things.

goes

bishop, I can't think. He in for saying It is so exciting to watch for them, and every now and then to be nearly made to jump off your seat. You can't approve of them, you know, and they are not particularly clever: the oddity is to hear them said in church. It is like hearing a text of Scripture at a farce, or a laugh at a funeral. However, he fills the building, and I confess I often find myself strolling there, in preference to tamer places. His sayings supply me with nice little anecdotes, especially when I slightly embellish them, which of course for the entertainment of friends I have no hesitation in doing. People are so fond of hearing of oddities in church, and all the stories about Rowland Hill, Spurgeon, and others have long ago grown stale.

Miss V. Now I agree with Lady Gossip.

I don't care for sermons.

itself says they are foolishness.

The very Bible

always go where there is a grand choral service, and a

good anthem. As the opera is closed on a

Sunday, and as there appears to be a prejudice against regular concerts, I do the best I can, and put up with sacred music. There are really one or two churches which are not far behind the theatres.

Lady A. Who is your favourite preacher, Mrs. Melsom? While we are chatting, you are silent.

Mrs. M. I rarely have the opportunity of hearing celebrated preachers. You see I go to our parish church with my husband and children. I have no objection to hear a stranger now and then, but am well satisfied with our own clergy.

Lady A. Are they eloquent?

Mrs. M. No.

Lady A. Are they original?

Mrs. M. No.

Lady A. Do they say queer things?
Mrs. M. No.

Lady A. And you mean to say that you are good enough to listen to them?

Mrs. M. I mean to say that they are

always good enough to preach things to which I ought to listen. I should be ever so much wiser and better if I listened more attentively. Such a lot of nonsense is spoken throughout the week, that I think I could scarcely keep straight without the Sunday sermons. O no, I don't suppose our clergy are eloquent, or original, and they are most certainly not queer. Nevertheless, I feel very grateful to them.

Lady G. (aside). She always was strange. Has she any special meaning in talking of the nonsense spoken throughout the week? I sometimes think she is a little out of her mind.

COLLOQUY THE SIXTEENTH.

THE ARTISANS.

SCENE: Workmen leaving a Factory, in a large town.

Bill. It seems the Leger sweepstakes ain't to be drawn till Saturday. That don't hinder us from doing a little private business. I'll take seven to four agin Kamscatka.

Joe. No, I can only give six to four.

Bill. How does it stand at Tattersall's ? Joe. Here's the Sportsman.' Seven to four at Tattersall's, but only six to four at Manchester. Now I allays go by Man

chester.

Bill. Well, I suppose I must put up with six to four. Shillin's, I Shillin's, I suppose ?

Joe. Yes, shillin's. How about Vesuvius?

Bill. They say he has been stopped in his work, but I don't mind taking twelve to

one.

Joe. Done! Down they goes into my book, and please remember we settle the Monday after the Doncaster week. I got horribly bitten over some of the events at Goodwood. Private tips all wrong. However, I did a tolerably good thing over them bicycles. Got warm on the winner a fortnight before. Ned, can I do anything with you to-day?

Ned. I think not.

Joe. Hard up, I suppose? It struck me you looked uncommonly serious. Well, we all have our good and bad times. Of course we meet to-night, as usual on Thursdays, at the 'Goat and Compasses'?

Ned. Why, no. Mates, you'll be surprised at what I'm going to say, but I've pretty well made up my mind never to bet again, and to have quite done with the 'Goat and Compasses.'