ALL THE DIFFERENCE.

Saying dittoTo Mr.Kitto.

Saying ditto

To Mr.Kitto.

AndMr. Punchonce more expresses his hope that the first Act of next Session will be one to regulate meetings and processions in and about London, whereby orderly citizens may enjoy their rights undisturbed. Trafalgar Square and all our great thoroughfares should be "proclaimed districts," as regards the loafers, roughs, and rowdies whose object is plunder, and whose end is—or, at least, should be—punishment.

Punch.

ALL THE DIFFERENCE.Lord Mayor."EH!—WHAT!—PROCESSIONS!—WHY——"Sir C. Warren."OH, YOU'RE ALL RIGHT, MY LORD,—YOU'RE NOT A 'PROCESSION'—YOU'RE A 'SHOW.'YOUWON'T 'TERRORISE THE INHABITANTS'!!"

Lord Mayor."EH!—WHAT!—PROCESSIONS!—WHY——"

Sir C. Warren."OH, YOU'RE ALL RIGHT, MY LORD,—YOU'RE NOT A 'PROCESSION'—YOU'RE A 'SHOW.'YOUWON'T 'TERRORISE THE INHABITANTS'!!"

"NOBLESSE OBLIGE."Old Friend."Hullo, Dick! How are you? I wish you'd come and Dine with me to-night. But now you're a Lord, I suppose I mustn't call you Dick any longer, or even ask you to Dinner?"Noble Earl (who has just come into his Title)."Lord be blowed! Lend me a Fiver, and you may call me what you like—and I'll Dine with you into the bargain!"

Old Friend."Hullo, Dick! How are you? I wish you'd come and Dine with me to-night. But now you're a Lord, I suppose I mustn't call you Dick any longer, or even ask you to Dinner?"

Noble Earl (who has just come into his Title)."Lord be blowed! Lend me a Fiver, and you may call me what you like—and I'll Dine with you into the bargain!"

The æsthetic ArchbishopBensonhas an eye for colour. At Truro, theTimesreport says, "he wore his scarlet robe and train, which, as he moved from place to place in the Cathedral"—very restless of him, by the way—"was upborne by two little acolytes clad in scarlet cassocks and dainty surplices of lawn, and wearing tiny scarlet caps upon their heads." The Archbishop is the big scarlet, and the tiny acolytes might be called the scarletini. And to think that years ago this sudden outbreak of archiepiscopal brilliancy would have been inveighed against as trifling with the "Scarlet Lady." H.R.H. made an excellent speech on the occasion, and, with the effect of colour still in his memory, he could not resist reminding the æsthetic Dr.Bensonthat "seven years and a half ago"—nothing like being exact—"he (H.R.H.) was enabled to lay the foundation stone of this Cathedral with Masonic honours." "Archbishop in scarlet, forsooth! scarlet tiny acolytes!" (such was evidently the rebuke conveyed in H.R.H.'s speech)—"you should just see Me as Most Worshipful Grand Master, with my Wardens, Deacons, Chaplains, and Tylers! Why, in comparison with that blaze of splendour, you and your scarlet are nowhere. However, Ladies and Gentlemen, I came here on this occasion, not 'to obligeBenson,' but to visit this ancient Duchy in my popular character of Duke ofCornwall.Au revoir."

MonsignorPersico,Truthsays, stayed with ArchbishopCroke, and dined with the witty and popular FatherJames Healy, P.P. of Little Bray. Well, MonsignorPersicomust have heard a great deal of croke-ing, but let us hope he has got some remedies for healy-ing the wounds of the distressful country fromMr. Punch'sgood friend, FatherJames, of Little Bray, and precious little bray about him.

The near approach of Christmas, with its fireside stories, has suggested the following list of questions for examination that may be put to himself by any intendingraconteur. As he may be sure that if he can tackle them satisfactorily he will be able effectually to enchain any family circle he may come across during the coming festive season, he may be safely recommended to go at them in all confidence:—

1. What is a "spook"? Have you ever met one in society? Define "telepathy." Can you send a "telepathigram"? If so, do you think it would cost more than a halfpenny a word?

2. Write a short biographical notice of Messrs.Myers and Gurney. State which of the two you would rather be, and give, if you can, your reasons for your answer.

3. Furnish a brief abstract, that must not exceed 300 pages, of their joint work,Phantasms of the Living. What would be the present price of the two volumes onMudie'sSecond-hand List?

4. A certain Mr.Brownknew a CaptainJones, who knew a MajorRobinson, who one night sitting at Mess at a hill-station in the Central Provinces of India, thought he saw a figure on the verandah and felt a sudden dig in the side as if somebody had pushed him with his elbow. He had been mixing his wines rather freely, but turning to his neighbour, he said, "I am almost sure something has happened to my UncleJames." He subsequently wrote a dozen letters to England on the subject, but could never get any answer; and to this day, though his UncleJamesis known to be alive and quite well, the matter remains a mystery. To what class of "inconsequent warnings" could you refer this experience?

5. At Bansbury House, Buckinghamshire, a phantom omnibus full inside and out of headless passengers, drives three times round the central grass-plot on the eve of the day on which the heir orders a new dress-coat. Account for this, if you can, and compare it with the reported apparition of the famous luminous elephant said to be visible to the Lairds of Glenhuish whenever the amount of their butcher's-book reaches the sum of £20.

6. Detail the circumstances that are said to explain the curious conduct of the celebrated little old man in the bagwig and faded blue velvet coat, that haunts the principal guest bedchamber at Tokenhouse Manor. To what is he supposed to refer when after mournfully shaking his head three times he says, "It's the mustard that did it!" Examine this, and give some reasons to account for the fact that he invariably disappears in the linen cupboard.

7. Give the various popular versions of the secret which imparted at Rheums Castle to (1) the heir, on his attaining his majority, (2) the family butler, and (3) a select circle of intimate friends who may have chanced to attend on the occasion regarding the matter as an excellent joke, instantly turns their hair white, causes them to look thirty years older, and makes them talk in whispers, and wear an expression of melancholy terror for the rest of their lives.

8. The hall of a well-known modern villa at Brixton is haunted by the spectre of a coal-heaver, who carries his head under his arm; and, whenever it is opened, he is visible on the mat, just inside the front door. Tradesmen, therefore, calling with their accounts, rush away, terror-stricken, without waiting for payment, and visitors coming to five o'clock tea are carried off in violent hysterics to the nearest chemist's. As the landlord cannot induce any bailiffs to cross the threshold, the tenant who is, notwithstanding their ghastly condition, quite cheerful on the premises, is several quarters in arrear with his rent. State, under the circumstances, what proceedings, if any, you would take to "lay" the ghost.

9. It is well known that the celebrated gallery at Bingham Place, Somersetshire, is haunted, after midnight, by the apparition of a knight in full armour, who heralds his approach by the clanking of chains and cannon-balls, and who, after flinging about the boots and hot-water cans standing at the doors of the various guest-chambers, tumbles head-over-heels down-stairs, shrieking the refrain of a thirteenth century hunting-chorus, and having thoroughly awakened everybody sleeping on the premises, finally disappears with a loud unearthly wail, in the butler's pantry. State what you think would be the probable result of waiting for the appearance of this spectre, and then suddenly hitting it hard over the knees with a cricket-bat.

10. Give the story of the well-known "haunted house" in Belgrave Square. How would the unconscious tenant who had taken it furnished be likely to account for the punctual appearance, at half-past nine every evening, among his guests in the back drawing-room, of the eyeless baronet, in a dressing-gown, dragging the two elderly females by the hair of their heads about in a deadly struggle, and, after continuing it for three-quarters of an hour, ultimately vanishing, as if exhausted, apparently into the grand piano? Would you advise him to take his guests into his confidence, and apologise for the intrusion, or pretend to notice nothing unusual in the phenomenon, and simply ignore it? Examine the situation, and conclude your paper by dealing with it in the shape of a short essay on "the position of the Ghost considered in relation to Society."

"LUXURY."(According to the latest Edition of "Knight Thoughts.")Alderman (to his Guest, after a good dinner)."'Elp y'shelf! Recollec' every Bo'le o' Champagne we drink, provi'sh Employment for the Workin' Classhesh!!"

(According to the latest Edition of "Knight Thoughts.")

Alderman (to his Guest, after a good dinner)."'Elp y'shelf! Recollec' every Bo'le o' Champagne we drink, provi'sh Employment for the Workin' Classhesh!!"

"Mr.Gladstonegave EarlSpencerand EarlGranvillea specimen of his skill with the axe yesterday. With Mr.Herbert Gladstoneto assist him, the Right Honourable gentleman, stripped to his waist, attacked a tree in most vigorous fashion!"—Times, Nov. 4.

SaidSpencertoGranville,"Like strokes on an anvil."SaidGranvilletoSpencer,"He'll catch influenza."YoungHerbert, brow mopping,Cried, "Letter from Dopping!"GrowledGladstone, not stoppingIn chopping, "Blow Dopping!"And so went on lopping.

SaidSpencertoGranville,

"Like strokes on an anvil."

SaidGranvilletoSpencer,

"He'll catch influenza."

YoungHerbert, brow mopping,

Cried, "Letter from Dopping!"

GrowledGladstone, not stopping

In chopping, "Blow Dopping!"

And so went on lopping.

"Refusal to Pay a Levy in Ireland."—This was what Mrs.Ramsaw as the heading of a paragraph in an evening paper. "Well," said the good lady, "if they won't pay aLevy, why not send aMoses, and see ifhewill get it."

[The Rajah of Kupurthala, emulating the Nizam, has offered five lacs towards the defence of the frontiers of India.]

The Laureate, patriot of sense,Writes with a pungent penOf "That eternal lack of penceWhich vexeth public men."But India's public men, with pride,In Princes such as these,Will find their "lack of pence" suppliedBy—a lac of rupees!

The Laureate, patriot of sense,

Writes with a pungent pen

Of "That eternal lack of pence

Which vexeth public men."

But India's public men, with pride,

In Princes such as these,

Will find their "lack of pence" supplied

By—a lac of rupees!

Scene—The Thames Embankment. Crowd discovered, waiting for Lord Mayor's Show.

Female Pleasure-seeker (whose temper is apt to be a little uncertain on these occasions, to her husband).We ought to have started atleastan hour earlier—just look at the number of people here already! Youwoulddawdle—and it wasn't for want of speaking to,I'msure!

Her Husband (mildly).It certainly wasnot. Only, as the Show can't possibly pass for two hours, at least——

She.Two hours!Am I to stand about in this crowd allthattime?

He (with a feeble jocularity).Unless you prefer to climb a tree.

She.Then, John, all I can say is, I wish I had stayed at home! (John murmurs a silent, but fervent assent.)

A Practical Pleasure-seeker.Now I tell you what we'lldo,Maria—you takeWeetie, and keep close to me, and I'll look afterDuggie, and we'll just stroll comfortably up and down till the very last minute, and drop comfortably into front places, and there we are!

Patriotic P.What I like about occasions like this, is the spectacle of a thoroughly good-humoured, well-behaved British crowd—you don't see that on theContinent, y'know!

More Patriotic P. (thoughtfully).No, that's perfectly true; and what I say is—we don't want all these police about. Trust more to the general spirit of decency and order—let the people feel theyaretrusted!

A Socialist.Ah, you're right. Did you year what one of the Orators said in the Square the other afternoon? He told 'em SirCharleswould 'ave to be as wide awake as what he was 'imself, to prevent a Unemployed Demonstration to-day. "Let him remember," says he, "it's in our power to do that within arf a mile of the Mansion House, which would make the 'ole civilised world ring with 'orror," he says. And it's men like that as they're trying to silence and intimerdate!

The P. P.'s (edging away a little nervously, to one another).Well, I hope the Police are keeping a sharp look-out. I—I don't seem to see so many about as usual, eh?

A Speculator (with two tubs and a board) to Female P.'Ere you are, lydy, hony two shellin' fur a fust-rate stand—you won't see no better if you was to pay a suvring!

Female P.You may say what youlike, but I'm not going to tramp about any longer, and if you're so mean as to grudge two shillings—why, I can pay for myself!

Husb.Oh, hang it—get up if you want to!

The Practical P.Well,Maria, it's no use worryingnow—we must go and ask at the Police-Stations afterwards—it was a mistake to bring them!

The Patriotic P.Of course one istoldthere's a good deal of rough horse-play on these occasions, but anything more entirely——

[A "larrikin" comes up behind and "bashes" his hat in; a string of playful youths seize each other by the waist and rush in single file through crowd, upsetting everybody in their way; both thePatriotic Pleasure-seekersgo home by the Underground, without waiting for the Procession.

The Female P. (on the stand).John, I'm sure this board isn't safe. We should see ever so much better on one of those carts—they're only asking sixpence,John. Youarethe worst person to come out with—you never give yourself the smallest trouble—I have to do it all!Youcan stop here if you choose,I'mgoing to get into one of those carts! [She andJohndescend, and mount upon a coal-cart which is being driven slowly along the route.

Later; Procession approaching, distant music.

Crowd (jumping up and down like "skip-jacks" to see better).'Ere they are, they're coming!

[The way is cleared by trotting mounted Constables.

Stout Lady.Well, if I wanted to faint ever so, I couldn't now—where are you, my dear?

Another Stout Lady (cheerfully).I'm all right, Mrs.Porter, Mum. I've got tight 'old of this nice young Perliceman's belt—don't you fret yourself about me!

Experienced Sightseer (catching hold of littleDuggieand placing him in front, then pushing forward). Make room for this little boy, will you, please, I want him to see.

Crowd good-naturedly make way, affording unimpeded view of procession toDuggie—and theExperienced Sightseer,who troubles himself no further.

A Superior Sightseer.To think of the traffic of the first city in the world being stopped for this contemptible tomfoolery!

[Fights hard for a front place.

Procession passing.

Impertinent Female (to gorgeous Coachman).'Ow you'avealtered!

Well-informed Person (pointing out City Marshal).That's SirCharles, that is!

Unemployed (smarting with sense of recent wrongs).Yah, toirant!

[The C. M. beams with gratification.

Open carriages pass, containing Aldermen in tall hats and fur-coats.

Critical Crowd.Brush yer 'ats! There's a nose! Oh, ain't he bin 'avin' a go at the sherry afore he started, neither! 'Ere comes old "SirBen"—that's 'im in the white pot 'at!

[They cheerSirBen—without, however, any clear notion why.

Allegorical Cars pass.

Crowd.Don't they look chilly up there! 'Old on to your globe, Sir! Don't ketch cold in them tights, Miss! They've run up agin somethink, that lot 'ave. See where it's all bent in—eh?

Lord Mayor's Coach passes.

Crowd.'Ooray! That's 'im with the muff on. No, it ain't, yer soft 'ed! It's 'im in the feathered 'at a-layin' back. Whoy don't yer let 'im set on yer lap, Guv'nor? &c., &c.

A block. Lady Mayoress's Coach stopping.

Crowd.There's dresses! They must ha' cost a tidy penny!

Agitator.Wrung out of the pockets of the poor working-man!I'ddress 'em, I would! Why should sech as you and me keep the likes o' them in laziness? If we 'ad our rights, it'susas 'ud be riding in their places!

Artisan (after a glance at him).Dunno as the Show'd be much the prettier to look at forthat, mate.

After the Procession.

Practical Pleasure-seeker (who has been pushed into a back row, and seen nothing but the banners, toDuggieandWeetie,miraculously recovered). Thank Heaven, they're found! Children, let this be a lesson to you in future never to——What? Seen the Show beautifully, have you? (Boiling over.) Oh, very well—wait till I get you home!

The Female P.Now, don't say another word,John,—anyone but anidiotwould haveknownthat that cart would be turned down a back-street! If I hadn'tinsistedon getting out when I did, we should have missed the Show altogether. Policeman, is the Show ever coming? Shall we get a good view from here?

Policeman.Capital view, Mum—if you don't mind waiting till next November! [Tableau. Curtain.

THE FIRST MEET OF THE SEASON.

Many terrible things have our patriots seen;They have seen their dearDizzyextending the suffrage,And versatileGladstonea-wearing the Green,AndHarcourtdefending Home Rule and the rough-rage;And Disintegration approaching our realm,And Rads—so they fancy—inviting invaders;But that which their souls must with woe most o'erwhelmIs—LordRandolph Churchilla-chaffing Fair Traders!

Many terrible things have our patriots seen;

They have seen their dearDizzyextending the suffrage,

And versatileGladstonea-wearing the Green,

AndHarcourtdefending Home Rule and the rough-rage;

And Disintegration approaching our realm,

And Rads—so they fancy—inviting invaders;

But that which their souls must with woe most o'erwhelm

Is—LordRandolph Churchilla-chaffing Fair Traders!

"'Jam' satis," as our Schoolmaster had just breath enough to murmur when he escaped from out of the midst of a Socialist Meeting in Trafalgar Square.

Unfortunately, the great enemy of the Teetotal Temperance Societies is—the British "Public."

(A Contribution towards a Future History, by Macaulay Stiggins, C. C.)

TheLord Mayorwas the first Privy Councillor created, and has remained so ever since that auspicious event. On the death of the Monarch, he presides at the meeting that is immediately summoned, and appoints the new Cabinet, generally from the members of the late Government, but on one memorable occasion he appointed all the members of the Court of Aldermen who had passed the Chair, and although they were afterwards induced to resign, it was noticed that during their short administration matters went on much as usual. This was called the Cabinet of Absolute Wisdom, after AldermanWood, the Prime Minister, who was the First Lord of the Treasury who ever left more in it than he found there. His beautiful daughter,Maria, was the reigning Toast of those hard-drinking days, and gave her well-known name to the magnificent City Barge that periodically conveys the City Fathers, together with the City Mothers, on their several important inspections of the Silver Thames, in the neighbourhood of Richmond and Twickenham. The matters they have to discuss on these occasions are of so weighty a nature that they are compelled to have five or six horses to draw them. On one occasion, and one only, they managed to get as far as Oxford, an account of which celebrated voyage was written by the Lord Mayor's Chaplain of the time, under the title of "AldermanWenables' Woyage to Hoxford," a copy of which is still preserved in the Bodleian, among their most cherished treasures, and can only be seen on special application, as fabulous sums have been offered by the Court of Aldermen for its destruction, it being the only copy that escaped when the whole edition was ordered to be bought up and destroyed. This unique volume is said to contain such astounding revelations as must be seen to be believed, and would possibly not be believed even then.

Before the newly-elected Lord Mayor is sworn in, he has to produce a Certificate from a Wine Merchant, "residinge in ye Cittye," and a Freeman of the Vintners' Company, that he has placed in the capacious Cellar at the Mansion House, provided for that purpose, ten Tuns, or one thousand dozen of good wine, for the year's consumption, and whatever is left,if any, is distributed among the Royal Hospitals, the quantity being carefully recorded by the learned Recorder, which record is placed under the control of the equally learned Comptroller, and remains for all time, as a witness to the liberality or stinginess of the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor of that particular year.

The Sheriffs are the most ancient officers of the Corporation, having been first elected in the reign of KingNebuchadnezzar. A singular custom still prevails, originating, it is said, in their association with the grass-eating monarch. They are entitled, by virtue of their office, to the first six bundles of sparrow-grass—as it was originally spelt, and is still called by Members of the Corporation—that are brought into Covent Garden Market: and his Grace the Duke ofBedfordis always courteously invited to partake of it, at a sumptuous banquet called "the Grass Festival." (Vide Stow, cap. 23 ofBell'sed.)

The City Marshal was formerly a personage of great importance, being in fact of the same rank as a Field Marshal, the only difference being that one acted in the City and the other in the Field, whence their names. The City Marshal was the City Champion, and always rode into Guildhall, fully armed, on Lord Mayor's Day, at the commencement of the Banquet, and, throwing down a glove, dared anyone to mortal combat who disputed the rights of the Lord Mayor. If no one accepted his challenge, he quaffed a flagon of sack to his Lordship's health, and then cleverly and gracefully backed out of the Hall. It is recorded that on one occasion his challenge was accepted by a gallant Common Councilman who had been fulfilling the important duties of Wine-taster, and who, when called upon to name time and place for the deadly encounter, said, in the memorable words of the greatAlfred, "Here and now!" which so astonished the Champion that he pleaded sudden indisposition, and withdrew. The custom has since been discontinued. The gallant Common Councilman was made Deputy of the Ward of Port-soaken.

In ancient times theLord 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 aLord Mayormaking a Fool of himself the office was abolished by the Common Council from motives of economy. In memory of this ancient privilege theLord Mayoronce in the season has a fool—a gooseberry fool—all to himself.

Going Nap.

Any Time in August.—Just been reading capital article inNineteenth 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.Shehad all her family intoe. Laugh feebly at my own joke. Really my nerves must beverybad.) Best feature of new holiday plan, however, is itscheapness. Was quite at a loss how to afford our annual trip tillHowiecame to rescue with his "(y)early to bed" cure. Announce to family that I intend following Dr.Howie'sadvice. 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,wheredoes my money go to? Argument forcible, but unpleasant.

First Day.—Holiday begins. Sleep till 11A.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,Howiesays, 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. WonderHowiedidn't think of this. SendHenryfor evening paper—perhaps it will soothe me.

It doesn't. He brings back one three days old. Says shopman gave it him! Send him again, and shop closed for night. Nerves actuallyworse than ever.

Second Day.—Had disturbed night, owing to lack of my usual exercise yesterday. Still must stick toHowie'sprescription. Terrific row in house. Wife comes up after breakfast (in tears) to say children, deprived of sea-side trip, are ungovernable; pretend to be buffaloes and Cowboysin drawing-room! Already two valuable vases wrecked. Hang the children! Hang Colonel CODY too! Still even paying for new vases cheaper than Ramsgate lodgings. Read morning paper. Just dropping off to sleep over somebody's important speech on Ireland, when——

Threehurdy-gurdies outside! Rush to window, open it, and bid men avaunt. They won't avaunt. Say "they've been ordered to come every morning for a month by the young gent." This must beHenry's"Plan of Campaign." Send for him, and find he has prudently gone out. Nothing for it but to stuff cotton-wool into ears till men go. Cotton-wool in ears for a whole hourshattersnerves.

Third Day.—Much worse. Though I've given strict orders that no letters or bills are to be sent up to my bed-room, find Tax-Collector's little "Demand-Note" wrapped in fold of morning paper! Annoyed. Perhaps, after all,Howiewrong. Hullo! what's that? Somebody on my window-sill! Burglars? No, can't be. How bad all this is for my nerves. Spring up in time to seeHenrydisappearing down rope-ladder, which he and his brothers have let down from roof. How horribly dangerous! Ring violently. Hear heavy thud in garden. Talk of "Nerve Rest-Cure"—rest of my nerves gone long ago, none left to be cured.

Wife (in tears again—awfully bad for nerves this) says the thud was notHenryfalling; boys have pulled down part of chimney, which has smashed the front steps—that's all. She suggests that perhaps, after all, this holiday plan in bed is not so good as——

Five hurdy-gurdiesto-day! Maddening! Hired byHenry, wife says. Sendhimto bed for whole day; we'll see how he likes "Rest-Cure" forhisnerves. Get up gloomily, dress, and go downstairs. PitchNineteenth Centuryinto waste-paper basket. Feel nerves better after it. Decide on Ramsgate, as usual, and so ends my holiday in bed—my "Sleepy Hollow" day!

NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.

Transcriber's Notes:Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.Passages in bold were indicated by =equal signs=.Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.Throughout the document, the œ ligature was replaced with "oe".Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate.Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected unless otherwise noted.

Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.

Passages in bold were indicated by =equal signs=.

Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.

Throughout the document, the œ ligature was replaced with "oe".

Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.

The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate.

Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected unless otherwise noted.

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