"MR. PEPYS'S PARISH CHURCH."--The Rev. ALFRED POVAH'S interesting work gives us the origin of the "Navy pew" in St. Olave's. In such a church how appropriate was the old "three-decker," as this structure, which contained clerk below, parson in the middle, and preacher in the topmost compartment, used to be termed.
A JUST CORRECTION.--In _Macmillan's_ for this month there is an interesting article entitled "_In the Wake of Captain Cook_." An Irish member of the club threw the number down, exclaiming, "The man who wrote that can't write English! 'Tis not '_in_ the wake' at all. Sure it ought to be '_at_ the wake.'"
LEGAL CLOCKWORK.--Towards the end of last week, the key of the difficulty having been found, the Justice-VAUGHAN-WILLIAMS'-winding-up business was wound up, and J. V. W., being wound up, was set going again. There is, however, still some difficulty, and a little oil on the troubled works will be necessary. _Mem. to the Lord Chancellor._--"Please not to touch the figures."
_Q._ What is the best sort of cigar to smoke in a Hansom?
[Illustration: "Yes, Alfred, Retribution!"]
_A little narrow glen, with a slope in the background, belonging to_ ALFRED. _Under the dripping trees a table and chairs, all made of thin birchstaves. Everything is sodden with wet, and mist-wreaths are driving about._ ALFRED FRÜYSECK, _dressed in a black mackintosh, sits dejectedly on a chair. Presently_ MOPSA BROVIK _comes down the slope cautiously behind, and touches his shoulder_; ALFRED _jumps_.
_Mopsa._ You shouldn't really sit about on damp seats in such miserable weather, ALFRED. I have been hunting for you everywhere.
[_Closing her umbrella with quiet significance._
_Alfred_ (_to himself_). Run to earth! Oh, Lor'! (_Aloud._) If you would only be kind enough to search for MOPSËMAN instead! I _cannot_ unravel the mystery of his disappearance. There he was, just entering upon conscious intelligence--full of the infinite possibilities of performing poodlehood. I had charged myself with his education. After having been an usher at so many boarding-schools, I felt peculiarly fitted for such a task. And then a shady scoundrel has only to come his way with rats in a bag----!
_Mopsa._ But we don't in the least know how it really all came about.