ooling will do even you no harm. The author wishes you a merry
Christmas, and welcomes you to the Fireside Pantomime.

W. M. THACKERAY. December 1854.

CONTENTS

I. SHOWS HOW THE ROYAL FAMILY SATE DOWN TO BREAKFAST

II. HOW KING VALOROSO GOT THE CROWN, AND PRINCE GIGLIO WENT WITHOUT

III. TELLS WHO THE FAIRY BLACKSTICK WAS, AND WHO WERE EVER SO MANY GRAND
PERSONAGES BESIDES

IV. HOW BLACKSTICK WAS NOT ASKED TO THE PRINCESS ANGELICA'S CHRISTENING

V. HOW PRINCESS ANGELICA TOOK A LITTLE MAID

VI. HOW PRINCE GIGLIO BEHAVED HIMSELF

VII. HOW GIGLIO AND ANGELICA HAD A QUARREL

VIII. HOW GRUFFANUFF PICKED THE FAIRY RING UP, AND PRINCE BULBO CAME TO
COURT

IX. HOW BETSINDA GOT THE WARMING-PAN

X. HOW KING VALOROSO WAS IN A DREADFUL PASSION

XI. WHAT GRUFFANUFF DID TO GIGLIO AND BETSINDA

XII. HOW BETSINDA FLED, AND WHAT BECAME OF HER

XIII. HOW QUEEN ROSALBA CAME TO THE CASTLE OF THE BOLD COUNT HOGGINARMO

XIV. WHAT BECAME OF GIGLIO

XV. WE RETURN TO ROSALBA

XVI. HOW HEDZOFF RODE BACK AGAIN TO KING GIGLIO

XVII. HOW A TREMENDOUS BATTLE TOOK PLACE, AND WHO WON IT

XVIII. HOW THEY ALL JOURNEYED BACK TO THE CAPITAL

XIX. AND NOW WE COME TO THE LAST SCENE IN THE PANTOMIME

THE ROSE AND THE RING

I. SHOWS HOW THE ROYAL FAMILY SATE DOWN TO BREAKFAST

This is Valoroso XXIV., King of Paflagonia, seated with his Queen and
only child at their royal breakfast-table, and receiving the letter
which announces to His Majesty a proposed visit from Prince Bulbo, heir
of Padella, reigning King of Crim Tartary. Remark the delight upon the
monarch's royal features. He is so absorbed in the perusal of the King
of Crim Tartary's letter, that he allows his eggs to get cold, and
leaves his august muffins untasted.

'What! that wicked, brave, delightful Prince Bulbo!' cries Princess
Angelica; 'so handsome, so accomplished, so witty--the conqueror of
Rimbombamento, where he slew ten thousand giants!'

'Who told you of him, my dear?' asks His Majesty.

'A little bird,' says Angelica.

'Poor Giglio!' says mamma, pouring out the tea.

'Bother Giglio!' cries Angelica, tossing up her head, which rustled with
a thousand curl-papers.

'I wish,' growls the King--'I wish Giglio was. . .'

'Was better? Yes, dear, he is better,' says the Queen. 'Angelica's
little maid, Betsinda, told me so when she came to my room this morning
with my early tea.'

'You are always drinking tea,' said the monarch, with a s