Business is business.

Yrs., &c.

J. SOAMES.

Perhaps one day the Professor of Scientific Economy will publish his "_Letters to Baron Rothschild_." But I don't think there will ever appear a very voluminous collection of "_Letters of Baron R. to Mr.

Jenkyns Soames_."

Milburd asks him "what he should say were the pleasures of poverty."

The Professor considers.

We all consider.

The Professor wishing to do everything methodically, writes on the slate in large type THE PLEASURES OF POVERTY.

FIRST Pleasure ......

Then he pauses. Then he speaks. "On thorough consideration, I am convinced that Poverty has no pleasures.

"If any, they are peculiar.

"They are Grim Pleasures.

"One grim Pleasure of Poverty is talking about ourselves."

"A very poor subject," observes Miss Medford.

After a silence, during which I am just on the point of saying something, but don't, the Professor adds,

"No. We try very hard, but can _not_ see any pleasure in Poverty."

[Ill.u.s.tration: PENNY WISE AND POUND FOOLISH.]

CHAPTER X.

OUT OF AN ALb.u.m--ON LOSS OF PATIENCE--MRS. FRIMMELY's SUGGESTION--A DAY-DANCE.

Query--What shall we do?

We lounge over the room undecidedly. Mrs. Boodels thinks it's still raining. Pouring. Miss Bella says, "What a bother!" Miss Medford remembers having heard a problem worthy the Professor's attention. We pause in our indecision, and she reads from her alb.u.m.

_What circ.u.mstance most justifies loss of patience?_

_The Professor of Scientific Economy_ replies, a smoky chimney.

* He explains that he is thinking of a bitterly cold day in winter when he wanted to sit in his study, and write a treatise on the _Amount of change to be obtained out of a Roman Denarius_, B.C. 108. On this occasion his chimney _would_ smoke, and he had to sit with the door and window open. Then the smoke choked him; next, the draught gave him cold; then his fingers became frozen; finally, his feet were like icicles in refrigerating stockings. After standing this for about two hours, he could not help saying.......

Evidently a case where the Recording Angel would not even chance a blot.

_Happy Thought._--What a mess that book _will_ be in. Perhaps _illegible_!!

Miss Adelaide Cherton thinks that to find a wasp inside the only peach on the wall was most provoking.

_Byrton's Opinion._ Hot coffee over your new cords on a "show-meet" day.

It strikes me that to come on sh.o.r.e after taking a swim in the river, and not to be able to find your clothes, is a circ.u.mstance quite justifying loss of patience.

Apropos of this, Chilvern says he recollects a fellow--Smith, a friend of his--bathing, and when he came out he couldn't find his clothes. So, as some people were coming along the bank, Smith retired to the stream, and Chilvern went to search for the habiliments. The fact was, that Smith had gone down _with the stream_, and his clothes had been consequently left a mile behind.

Chilvern found the clothes, then returned, but couldn't find Smith.

The current had taken him down stream another mile.

So it might have gone on; had not the river been a tidal one (or worked on some peculiar principles, which Chilvern doesn't explain)--and, the stream changing, back brought Smith with it, and then he was happy,--only with a cold for ever after.

Mrs. Boodels being informed of the discussion through her ear-trumpet, said that losing a thimble was quite sufficient to justify any loss of patience.

The gentlemen present observe, that they have no doubt it is so, but they have had no experience.

Milburd thinks that the b.u.t.ton off your collar, or, losing your stud, _at the last moment_, is the most trying thing.

Bella Cherton, after walking to the window several times and seeing no sign of fine weather, says, "I'll tell you what I consider most justifies loss of patience."

"What?" we inquire.

"_Sitting here_!" she replied.

_Note._ This sort of reply rather throws a damper over efforts to be genial. Mrs. Boodels wishes it to be repeated to her through the trumpet. Damper through the ear trumpet.

Mrs. Orby Frimmely says, that trying to get through your favourite valse with a bad partner... Ah!

_Mrs. O. F.'s Happy Thought._ "By the way, as it is so wet, why not have a dance? Mr. Medford can play."

Seconded by Byrton, and supported by the ladies.