Having had enough rushing for one day John walked slowly out into the street, trying to remember the various ways in which his characters had committed suicide. He threw himself over the Embankment wall into the river, but fell in a dinghy which he had not noticed; he bought some poison, but the chemist recognised his face from a photograph in the Literary Column of The Druggist and gave him ipecacuanha (none of you can spell that); he thought of cutting his throat, but broke his thumb-nail trying to open the big blade, and gave it up. Desperate, he decided to go home. At Victoria he was hustled along the platform on the pretence that there is more room in the rear of trains. Finally he was hustled on to the line and electrocuted.
And everybody said, "So it was true."
A. P. H.
"There be Mrs. Rouse's, over agin the church. I believe she do put up with lodgers."
Commercial Candour.
From an Indian trade-circular:—
"We believe in making a Small Profit and selling Everybody rather than making a Big Profit and selling only a Few."