F. L-ckw-d, Q.C., M.P. Renounce Law and Politics. Draw for Punch. Ask H. F-rn-ss to give me a few lessons.
Right Hon. D-vid R. Pl-nk-t, M.P. Take a walk about London every morning at least, with view to rivalling Sam Weller in extent, if not peculiarity, of my knowledge of this "Vast Metrolopus."
Mrs. B-rn-rd B-re. Look after the acting rights of La Tosca. Get as good a play (if I can) as As in the Looking-glass, from the author of the novel. Go to Paris, and see dear Sarah. Find a better theatre than the Opéra Comique.
Mr. S-ntl-y. Learn "The Vicar of Bray," and "Father O'Flynn," as I have not added many new songs of late years to my répertoire.
Mr. S-ms R-v-s. Keep all my notes for my Autobiography. What title? Apologia?
M-d-me P-tti. Have "Home, Sweet Home," translated into foreign languages, to give it an air of novelty. Leave Wales to the Welshers.
Mr. A-g-st-s H-rr-s. Commence Pantomime for 1888-89. Entertain everybody. Send Life Pass for the Queen's Box, to the Assistant Architect of the Metropolitan Board of Works. Must be presented at Court this year. Should look well in Court suit.
Dr. R-bs-n R-se. Must invent something new in the diet line for New Year; shall cut off claret and hot water and their dry toast. Mem.—To write article in F-rtn-ghtly on "The Here and There of London Life," and point out the absolute necessity of consulting me on every subject. Recommend (as something novel), taking soup after cheese. This advice ought to increase my practice considerably.
The Rev. Dr. P-rk-r. Shall stay at home; at least, won't go again to United States; too vast.
Mr. B-s-nt. Keep my name well before the public. Think New Novel, All Sorts of Mortiboys, by Sir W-lt-r B-s-nt, Bart., would have good effect with publishers. Get W-ls-n B-rr-tt to dramatise with me, of course. Shall ask him not to act in it. Off to Africa, to get away from "London blacks."