III.—The Corruptive Letter.
Middlesex House, Park Lane, IV.
Dear Mr. Smith,—Can you come and dine with us quite in a friendly way on Thursday at eight? I want to introduce you to the Princess of Holdwig-Schlosstein and Mr. Alfred Austin, who are so eager to meet you. Do you know I am really a little frightened at the thought of meeting such a famous editor? Isn't it silly of me?
Yours very sincerely,
Emma Middlesex.
P.S.—I wonder if you could find room in your splendid little paper for a silly story I am sending you. It would be such a surprise for the Duke's birthday (on Monday).—E. M.
Before concluding the question of the covering letter I must mention the sad case of my friend Halibut. Halibut had a series of lithographed letters of all kinds, one of which he would enclose with every story he sent out. On a certain occasion he wrote a problem story of the most advanced kind; what, in fact, the reviewers call a "strong" story. In sending this to the editor of a famous magazine his secretary carelessly slipped in the wrong letter:
"Dear Mr. Editor," it ran, "I am trying to rite you a littel story, I do hope you will like my little storey, I want to tell you about my kanary and my pussy cat, it's name is Peggy and it has seven kitens, have you any kitens, I will give you one if you print my story,
"Your loving little friend,
"Flossie."
Proverb for the Council of the Royal Academy.—"Hanging goes by favour."
The Enraged Musician.—(A Duologue.)
Composer. Did you stay late at Lady Tittup's?
Friend. Yes. Heard Miss Bang play again. I was delighted with her execution.
Composer. Her execution! That would have pleased me; she deserved it for having brutally murdered a piece of mine.
[Exeunt.
The Gentility of Speech.—At the music halls visitors now call for "another acrobat," when they want a second tumbler.
