COINCIDENCE'S LONG ARM.
Dear Sir,—May I draw your attention to a series of domestic occurrences which illustrate the distressing and increasing tendency of this fin-de-siècle age? I say fin-de-siècle because as it has got to come in somehow, it may as well be said at once. At breakfast yesterday the bacon was wretchedly cooked. My wife said, "It's the fault of the New Cook," which was all the satisfaction or explanation that I got. I found my study disguised in an apparent tidiness, achieved at the cost of a complete confusion of my papers, which had been tidied away in a manner that completely defied detection. My wife only answered, "Oh, it's that New Housemaid." That night we went to the theatre. The name of the play was The New Woman. Then I understood the true inwardness of all my previous experiences. The moral is so clear that I do not propose to draw any.
The Cedars, Sept. 29.Notta Newman.