In ancient times the LORD MAYOR, as every one knows, had a Fool all to himself, and he was the only Fool permitted in the City. The appointment was open to all by competitive examination. On the occasion of a LORD MAYOR making a Fool of himself the office was abolished by the Common Council from motives of economy. In memory of this ancient privilege the LORD MAYOR once in the season has a fool--a gooseberry fool--all to himself.
_Any Time in August._--Just been reading capital article in _Nineteenth Century_, by Dr. JAMES MUIR HOWIE, on the "Nerve Rest-Cure," which says--"For those who cannot get a sufficient holiday, the best substitute is an occasional day in bed." Why not several days in bed? In fact one's whole summer holiday? "Better than climbing toilsome mountains," he remarks. Quite so--and much better than toilsome trip to Ramsgate with one's whole family in tow. (Think of the Old Woman who lived in a Shoe. _She_ had all her family in _toe_. Laugh feebly at my own joke. Really my nerves must be _very_ bad.) Best feature of new holiday plan, however, is its _cheapness_. Was quite at a loss how to afford our annual trip till HOWIE came to rescue with his "(y)early to bed" cure. Announce to family that I intend following Dr. HOWIE'S advice. Family seems too stupefied to say anything.
_Evening._--Family has found its voice. Protests unanimously and quite fiercely against new holiday plan. Wife "sure I can afford trip to sea-side." If not, _where_ does my money go to? Argument forcible, but unpleasant.
_First Day._--Holiday begins. Sleep till 11 A.M. Scrumpshous! Should have slept longer, but two hurdy-gurdies stop outside, playing different airs. Not only murder the tunes, but "murder sleep" as well. Listen for ten minutes--nerves terribly shaky. Oughtn't to get out of bed, HOWIE says, but must. See my eldest boy, HENRY, giving Italian fiends money! What does this unwonted generosity mean?
_Afternoon._--Dinner in bed not a success. Everything underdone. Tell wife. She says, "Cook and servants in bad tempers; thought we were all going to Ramsgate, and they would have rest." Rest means clandestine kitchen parties. Feel angry--bad for nerves, but can't help it. Sleep impossible, as bed full of crumbs. Wonder HOWIE didn't think of this. Send HENRY for evening paper--perhaps it will soothe me.