"Purely recuperative" holiday
To take—"Over the Hills and Far Away!"
[Left lolling like a Lotus-eater.
AN OLD FRIEND DUE NORTH.
For a really humorous drawing commend me to the picture in the Daily Graphic of Saturday, September 9, representing "the civic procession to the luncheon given to Lord and Lady Aberdeen by the Lord Mayor of Liverpool." The stately party is preceded by a Piper—of course, it is his worship the Mayor and common councillors who pay the piper and call the tune on this occasion—who is stepping out jauntily. But notice his glance; notice the Mayor's expression as he tries to prevent himself laughing, and hides one eye with the sword of State; notice Lord and Lady Aberdeen, the latter looking a trifle annoyed, while his Lordship is struggling with painfully suppressed merriment. What is it that has nearly upset their gravity and spoilt the procession? The explanation is at hand. On the left of the picture in the foreground stands, en evidence it is true, but with a reverential air as of one who knows his place in society and keeps it, our old friend and contributor, Robert the Waiter!! It must be he. It is the very man, unless he has a Scotch double, or unless he was born a twin, and the other Robert was a Scotchman. There he is. Get the paper and see.
Noah's Ark Masonry.—For the first time Mr. Punch, G.A.U.W.G.M., and Past Grand Everybody, met with mention of the "Royal Ark Mariners." Do they belong to an offshoot, or rather an Olive Branch, of Free-Masonry? "There are 3980 of them," says the Daily Telegraph. Where do they meet? In an Ark? Do they enter in pairs? Of course, Noah himself was a Mason, seeing that aboard his own vessel he was Sailing Master of the Craft.