propos of the Home for Chaperons.

The Happy Thought.—Why not start a new Brotherhood?

A social and sociable one. An order.

“What do I mean?” asks Milburd.

Simplest thing possible.

Hosts are so often in want of some one to “fill up.” A guest disappoints them at the last hour, and where are they to get another?

“Well,” says Boodles, “how is another to be got?” Easily: if, in a central situation, there were a House, a large House, where male guests of all sorts could be obtained.

I explain myself more clearly.

A lady says, “Oh dear! Our ball will be overdone with ladies. I mean, we've got plenty of gentlemen, but—I don't know what's the matter with the young men now-a-days, hardly any of them dance.”

If my Happy Thought is carried out, why here's her remedy.

Down she goes to the Home. Rings. Enters. Sees the Brother Superior, or Manager.

“What sort of young men do you want?”

“Well, specially for dancing, and generally effective.”

Good. Here is the very thing to suit you. “We've got only three of these in, as there's such a demand just now for this article, during the season.”

“Very well. Send them at ten.”

“With pleasure, and if any of the dancing brothers come in, they shall be forwarded to you later in the evening.” Terms, so much an hour. Supper ad lib. included. Breakages not allowed as discount. Any complaints as to inebriety, serious and compromising flirting, or of laziness, to be made to the manager or brother superior.

I would call this Order,

THE LITTLE BROTHERS OF THE RICH.

There should be no vows, and the rules to be strictly observed should be:—

1. To live in community, the House being supported by the labour of the Brothers, who shall receive a certain allowance, each one, per annum, out of the profits.
2. Always to be ready to fulfil engagements, whether for dancing parties, dinner parties, or other social gatherings.
3. The Serious Brothers will devote their time only to such literature as suits their professional duties.
4. The Sprightly, or dining-out Brothers, shall pass, monthly, an examination in good stories, anecdotes, and bons mots.
5. The Musical Brothers must be up in all new songs, and arrangements shall be made with publishers for Singing Brothers and Playing Brothers to receive a fair percentage on sale of pieces (indirectly).
6. The General Utility Brothers must be up in anecdotes and jokes, play a little, sing a little, sport a little, and do everything more or less, so as to make themselves indispensable to country houses where there are large gatherings.
7. The Theatrical Brothers must be perfect companions for amateurs, and know all about charades and extempore costumes.

Any Brother found dining, or doing anything, at his own expense, to be immediately dismissed.

I submit this scheme to the civilised world, hoping to meet a Want of the 19th century.

Boodels says that, practically, a Cricketing Eleven means something of this sort, being, generally speaking, merely a society organised for the purpose of staying at other people's houses free of charge.

Cazell wishes to know if we are going to waste our time in talking nonsense, or are we going to settle about our guests?

The question, I say, is whether my proposal is nonsense or not.

Chilvern hopes we'll make out our list. Jenkyns Soames settled. Byrton ditto. Old Mrs. Boodels.

Happy Thought (on seeing these pictures).—To ask Boodels' grandmother “then.” Milburd votes for asking the Chertons. Capital girls, he says, and appeals to Boodels. Boodels opines that—yes, they are very nice girls.

“No humbug about them,” says Milburd.

With this recommendation we put down the Chertons.

Miss Adelaide and Miss Bella.

Boodels says that, as they often go on a visit to his grandmother, she can bring them both.

Settled.

Boodels lends us a butler. Pious, with a turn for hymns in the pantry. Milburd brings a valet. A sociable creature, with an inclination to be affable, and join in the conversation round the dinner-table.

Milburd presents us with a groom, whose wife cooks. The groom himself has waited at table occasionally. At first he says “Woa” to the vegetables and the sauces. He cannons against the butler, and tells the dogs to “get out, carn't yer!” After a few days he is in good training.

Byrton brings a soldier-servant who will only attend to his master.

The Chertons have a ladies' maid, who affects the latest fashion, but is a failure in gloves.

Mrs. Boodels' maid is an elderly female. The vinegar in the kitchen salad.

We engage, on her recommendation, a housemaid, and a charwoman of irreproachable antecedents.

Chilvern, who gives himself a holiday, brings his clerk, a sharp little fellow of sixteen, to clean the boots, and render himself generally useful. The first day he was impudent to Mrs. Boodels' maid, and was thrashed by Byrton's servant. He is now quiet and subservient.