The great Imperial Institoot,
In Kensington has taken root,
And as a tree up may it shoot!
Our Institoot, Our Institoot!
Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN was so overcome by this inspiration, that after
reading it, he could not compose himself. "No," he exclaimed, "I cannot
invent music which should be a worthy setting for so precious a gem!
Give me something more simple," and so it came about that Mr. LEWIS
MORRIS'S poem was chosen. Whether the above-quoted beautiful _chorale_
was written by the Earl of R-SSL-N, whose little Jubilee volume of poems
has so enchanted a select circle, or by another titled and
unprofessional poet, is a secret which wild horses should not make us
divulge. Hooray for the Institoot!
* * * * *
[Illustration: GETTING ONE'S MONEY'S WORTH.
_She._ "WHAT'S THE GOOD OF SPENDING ALL OUR SUNDAY AFTERNOONS IN WALKING
ROUND THE SQUARE, WHERE THERE'S NEVER A SOUL AND HARDLY A TREE TO SPEAK
OF, AND WHEN THERE'S THE PARK CLOSE BY?"
_He._ "WHAT'S THE GOOD OF HAVING TO PAY A GUINEA A YEAR FOR THE USE OF
THE SQUARE, IF WE DON'T USE IT AS OFTEN AS WE CAN, I SHOULD LIKE TO
KNOW?"]
* * * * *