"Skip the Christian Endeavour."
"Very well. The next is 'Wesley Guild. A goodly company met this week to hear the Rev. J. Bates Handcock on "Gambling: its Cause and Cure." The reverend gentleman is always a favourite at Troy—'"
"He's none of mine, anyway. Skip the Wesley Guild."
"Right-o! 'On Wednesday last, in spite of counter attractions, much interest was testified by those who assembled in the Institute Hall to hear Mr Trudgeon, lately returned from the United States, on the Great Canyon of Colorado, illustrated with lantern slides. The lecturer in a genial manner, after personally conducting his audience across the Great Continent—'"
"Damn," said Mr Rogers. "Get on to the drunks. Ain't there any?"
"Seems not. How will this do?"
'Report says that Monday's Agricultural Demonstration —a full report of which will be found in another column—was not without its comic relief, beloved of dramatists. On dit that—'"
"On what?"
"Dit. Misprint, perhaps."
'On dit that two highly respected sons of the brine, recently settled in our midst, and one of whom has recently been elected to teach our young ideas how to shoot, were so fired with emulation by the ploughing in Class C as to challenge one another then and there to a trial of prowess, much to the entertainment of our agricultural friends. The stakes were for a considerable amount, and the two heroes who had elected to plough something more solid than the waves, quickly found themselves the observed of all observers. Rumour, that lying jade, hints at a lady in the case. Certain it is that the pair, whose names have of late been syn—been sy-nonymous—with,'—