Primrose, do you know of a very, very melancholy periodical ?" "Several of the periodicals seem to me rather melancholy," answered Primrose; "there is one I sometimes see on Mrs.Dove's table--it is called _The Watch_.

I glanced at it one day, and I thought it seemed very morbid." "Oh, I know," answered Jasmine; "but there is a worse one than that--Mrs.Dove showed it to me.

Mrs.Dove is very fond of reading, and she told me that she would not give a farthing for any literature that could not draw forth the salt and bitter tear; she says the magazine she likes best at present is a new one called _The Downfall_.
She says it is very little known, but its melancholy is profound.
Shall I send my verses to _The Downfall_, Primrose ?" "If you like, dear; but I don't at all admire the name, and I really do not think Mrs.Dove ought to be your guide in such matters, Jasmine." "Oh, she has very good taste," answered Jasmine; "she says that only real talent is admitted on the staff of _The Downfall_.

Of course I'd rather write for one of the shilling magazines.

Well, if you like, I'll send my poem to one of them first." Before Primrose could answer Jasmine on this weighty point there came a knock on the sitting-room door, and Mrs.Dove, with her face wrapped up in a thick woollen shawl, entered the room.
"Very sorry to disturb you, young ladies," she said, "but could you oblige me with the loan of three and tenpence-halfpenny.