pendant twelve feet by nine. Now you know
that is absurd. Can you give me authority to
alter it—it's not worth half-a-crown?"

"No. I have nothing to do with flags.
Mr. Scarce, perhaps, in the Naval Room, would
know."

So off I trot to the Naval Room.

"Mr. Scarce, here is a demand from the
Q.M.G., Barbadoes, for a red pendant twelve feet
by nine. Now, you know, that's absurd. Can
you give me authority to alter it?"

"No. I have nothing to do with the Q.M.G.
You had better go over to the 'Household
Gauds,' and ask there."

So I put on my hat, and away I posted across
the Park to the Household Gauds. The Q.M.G.
himself was absent, but I found my way to his
second in command, and once more told my tale.

"Sorry to trouble you, Colonel Chevron, but
we have a demand, &c. The thing is not worth
half-a-crown."

"Really I am sorry I cannot assist you;
but we have nothing to do with stores. Stay!
Let me see. Flags! You had better go to the
Admirable House. Give my compliments to the
Secretary, and he will tell you, no doubt."

A very great man was the Secretary to the
Admirable Board, and his minutes precious, but
the "compliments of Colonel Chevron" admitted
me to his presence at once, and I again unfolded
my grief.

"Sorry to trouble you, sir, but I belong to the
Circumlocution-office, and I have been sent on
here from the Household Gauds. We have a
demand, &c. &c. The thing is not worth half-
a-crown."

"Sorry I cannot help you. We have only
the political business here. You had better go
to Somersault House. Here—take this card to
the Storekeeper-General. He will give you
every information."

Somersault House was already some distance
off, and who could tell "by what by-paths and
indirect crook'd ways" I might not there be
handed on, perhaps, even to "Quartermaster-
General's Department, Barbadoes" itself? So I
fortified myself with a cigar, and trudged onwards
along the Strand. Arrived at Somersault
House, I found the Storekeeper-General engaged
with a mutton-chop. No sooner was this necessary
business transacted, than that official
dignitary at once lent an attentive ear to my oft-
repeated tale of woe. Then he stood for a
moment pondering.

"I think I can help you." I looked at him with
admiring eyes. Here was a man, indeed!

"Mr. Green!" shouts the S.G.

Mr. Green, bald-headed and responsible-looking,
appears from the next room, bowing.

"Mr. Green, here is a gentleman from the
Circumlocution-office wishes information as to
a red pendant demanded for the Quartermaster-
General's Department, Barbadoes. Now, I think,
about five-and-twenty years ago, we had a
demand from that station for some flags. If you
just look back through our books, you will no
doubt find the particulars required."

Five-and-twenty years! My heart sunk
within me, and so doubtless did that of poor
Mr. Green. But he was much too courteous and
well-bred to let it appear.

"Certainly, sir," he replied, with the blandest
of smiles; "but I fear we can hardly get the
information immediately, for most of the books
are in the cellar."

So it was settled that I should return whence
I came, and that, so soon as search could be
made, I should be informed of the result. Three
days passed away, and I am afraid I had almost
forgotten the important question I had left to
the decision of Somersault House, when a large
official letter "On Her Majesty's Service" was
put into my hands. It ran thus:

"Dear Sir,—

"I am sorry I cannot give you the information
required. We have looked carefully through our
books as far as the year 1828, but can find no
demand of the kind. I think you had better write to
the station, and have the demand revised.
"Yours, faithfully,
"J. GREEN."

So to Barbadoes we accordingly wrote, and in
the course of two or three months came the
revised "demand"—the postage there and back
did not cost above three or four shillings—and
the obnoxious little dots being removed, we
proceeded to order in due form the supply of this
memorable little strip of red bunting, value half-
a-crown.

Who, after this, will say that "individual
responsibility" is not working well!

CASTLE CLARE.

    FROM holly-bush and leafless larch,
        From beech-tree rusty-red,
    Now music comes to wake the flowers
        That sleep on mossy bed.
    For blackbirds pipe upon the elms
        To the echoes hiding there;
    And merry and strong the thrushes flute
        All round stern Castle Clare.

    The deer feed in the sloping dell,
        The swans are on the wave,
    The trout leap up for very joy
        In silver armour brave;
    The lark above the fallow sings,
        Poised in the calm blue air,
    Rejoicing every breeze that blows
        Sweetly o'er Castle Clare.

    It's towers stand grandly in the sun
        That gild their circling vanes;
    Soft clouds of billowing white roll by
        Laden with gentle rains.
    The birds upon a thousand trees,
        Like children free from care,
    Carol in the green spreading parks
        Of leaf-clad Castle Clare.

    Now foals in grassy paddocks pent
        Leap, welcoming the spring;
    I am the happiest creature born,
        For Love has crowned me king.