Mrs. Smith. "I think it dreadful that your Divorce Laws in America should be so much more lenient than they are in England."
Mr. Van Rensselaer. "Well, you see, my dear Madam, in England Divorce is a Luxury—while with us it is—er—a Necessity!"
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
Marco Polo Ulysses Henry Norman, having returned from a comprehensive tour in foreign parts, has set forth his experience in a handsome volume published by Fisher Unwin. The Far Fast is its alluring and well-sustained title. But why drag in Ulysses and Marco Polo? Their journeyings were on the scale of a jaunt to Switzerland as compared with Mr. Norman's. He has travelled through British, French, Spanish and Portuguese Colonies; has visited Siberia, China, Japan, Corea, Siam and Malaya. Whether in his study of political problems, his pictures of people, or his sketches of scenery, he is equally keen and habile. Anything that relates to China is peculiarly interesting just now, and Mr. Norman throws a flood of light on the state of the unwieldly empire. The description of the examination halls is instructive. The Government of China, Mr. Norman testifies, is a vast system of competitive examination tempered by bribery. Those who come out successfully in examinations—the subject-matter of which is knowledge of the works of Confucius, the history of China, and the art of writing as practised by the old masters—have berths found them under the Government. They are sent all over the country to be magistrates, generals, ship captains, engineers, without having the slightest acquaintance with details or systems over which they are put in a position of command. This fully accounts for what has taken place in recent campaigns by land and sea in the Far East. We can't all undertake Mr. Norman's monumental journey. But, adapting Sheridan's advice to his son on a certain occasion, my Baronite counsels the public to read The Far East and say they've been there.
The immortal Flaccus (writes one of the Baron's assistants) has, it appears, been sojourning in Cambridge, having gone into residence there some time before he stayed at Hawarden, either for translation or perversion. I make this statement after reading a delightful little book of light verse entitled Horace at Cambridge, by Owen Seaman (London, A. D. Innes & Co.). To every University man, and particularly, of course, to Cambridge men, this book will be a rare treat. But in virtue of its humour, its extreme and felicitous dexterity of workmanship both in rhyme and metre, and the aptness of its allusions, it will appeal to a far wider public. I pledge Mr. Seaman in a bumper of College Audit! and beg him to give us more of his work.
The Baron de Book-Worms.
The Olympians threaten.—A real ice rink, "said to be the largest in the world," is in course of construction at Olympia. Does "Niagara" realise, or, as in this conjunction it might be written, "real-ice," the fact that its own nice invention may, by its rival, be beaten all to shivers?