Special.
C. S. P-rn-ll. Change my name and address next year, call myself B-ckle of the Times.
Mr. Ch-mb-rl-n. Retire from "Fisheries'" as gracefully and as soon as possible. As J-sse C-ll-ngs would say, "Hook it." Codling's the man.
The Lord Ch-f J-st-ce of Engl-nd. Shall begin New Year by leaving off voice lozenges, or may be called a "Sucking Ch-f J-st-ce." Shouldn't like this, and I know of one worldly journalist who wouldn't hesitate to write it.
The Right Hon. J. G. G-sch-n, M.P. Think I shall go back to the Liberal Party for a year at least; have tried them all round; find the last rather worse than others. R-nd-lph says I should by this time be an authority on the principle of the "Theory of Exchanges."
Sir W-ll-m H-rc-rt, M.P. Shall begin to get up every morning at seven during recess, and go out for walk in glades of New Forest before breakfast. Find it a capital place to think out impromptus for my speeches.
Monsignor P-rs-co. Mem.—Keep myself to myself, and don't say nothing to nobody.
Archbishop Cr-ke. Ask Thos. O'Dw-er of Limerick to dinner. Cut National League on first opportunity.
Archbishop B-ns-n. Study the Calendar of State Papers, time of Henry the Eighth, carefully. Get portrait of myself done in full canonicals, with the two acolytes in scarlet skull-caps and cassocks, as we appeared at Truro. Pretty subject: great scope for artist.
Bishop of L-nd-n. "Oblige B-ns-n." Ask St-w-rt H-dl-m to take me to the Alhambra. Try and get a copy of that now extinct work, Essays and Reviews.