Sir,—I have seen some letters in the Daily Graphic on the above subject. A much more curious thing happened to me on April 1, 1887, at twenty-five minutes past ten in the morning. I dropped a pin about four yards from the south-western corner of the Marble Arch. It is almost incredible that exactly three years later I picked up a pin, at 4.17 in the afternoon, three yards and seven and a quarter inches to the south-east of the Humane Society's Receiving House. I have studied carefully the levels of the ground, the flow of the surface water, and the direction of the prevailing air currents, and I am reluctantly forced to the conclusion that it was not the same pin. Had it been, I should have found it five and a half inches further north. The question now is, whose pin was it?—Your obedient servant,

Scientific Investigator.

Dear Sir,—Some weeks ago I rode outside an omnibus from Piccadilly Circus to Charing Cross. Getting down hastily, when I found that it went on to Westminster instead of the City, I left behind a large grey parrot in a cage, a siphon of soda-water, and a St. Bernard dog. Yesterday, when I climbed on to an omnibus following the same route, I found my cage, my siphon, and my dog! It was the same omnibus, and the faithful beast was still there. Unfortunately the parrot and the soda-water were not, for the sagacious animal had evidently made use of them to sustain life, not very satisfactorily, for he was a mere skeleton.

Yours obediently,
Constant Reader.

Dear Mr. Punch,—Last evening I went out to dinner, and put my one latch-key in my pocket. Marvellous to relate, on my return home at three A.M., I took it, as I thought, from my pocket, and found that it had become two!

Yours faithfully,
Boosey Tite.