The Journal of a Disappointed Man

April 20. Miss ---- heard me sigh to-day and asked what it might mean. "Only the sparks flying upward," I answered lugubriously. A blackguard is often unconscious of a good deal of his wickedness. Charge him with wickedness and he will deny it quite honestly--honest then, perhaps, for the first time in his life. An Entomologist is a large hairy man with eyebrows like antennæ. Chronic constipation has gained for me an unrivalled knowledge of all laxatives, aperients, purgatives and cathartic compounds. At present I arrange two gunpowder plots a week. It's abominable. Best literature for the latrine: picture puzzles. April 23. A Foolish Bird With a menacing politeness, B---- to-day inquired of a fat curate who was occupying more than his fair share of a seat on top of a 'bus,-- "Are you going to get up or stay where ye are, sir?" The foolish bird was sitting nearly on top of B----, mistaking a bomb for an egg. "I beg your pardon," replied the fat curate. B---- repeated his inquiry with more emphasis in the hideous Scotch brogue. "I suppose I shall stay here till I get down presently." "I don't think you will," said B----. "What do you mean?" asked the fat one in falsetto indignation. "This," B---- grunted, and shunted sideways so that the poor fellow almost slid on to the floor. A posse of police walking along in single file always makes me laugh. A single constable is a Policeman, but several in single file are "Coppers." I imagine every one laughs at them and I have a shrewd suspicion it is one of W.S. Gilbert's legacies--the Pirates of Penzance having become part of the national Consciousness.