althy exercise."

But, Carlo, I was wrong to take that view;
Nature, though wonderful, does not (I find)
Deserve the credit of evolving you;
A trainer did it, just by being kind;
Your rise from wolfish ancestors you owe
To some primaeval impresario.

One sees the scene: how in the bygone days
Our forbears, fresh from bludgeoning their foes,
Would gather round to watch with glad amaze
A wolf who balanced rocks upon his nose.
"How quaint! How human!" thus their praises flowed;
"Look at his ikey way of wearing woad!"

And ever as the long years took their course
The trainer's skill came farther to the front,
Until, through gentleness and moral force,
One wolf achieved the "trust-and-paid-for" stunt.
Topical, this produced unbounded fun,
Coming when commerce had but just begun.

Then cleverer grew the wolflings year by year,
And greater yearly grew the "spot-cash" boon
Given to trainers summoned to appear
And charm a cave-man's idle afternoon,
Till came the whisper, "This is not the least
Bit like a wolf's cub; 'tis a nobler beast."

And thus the dog was born; the gathered crowd
Cheered their approval of this wise remark;
A glad tail wagged its pride, and clear and loud
Rang out the music of the earliest bark,
While envious Nature sighed, "O parlous miss!
I _was_ a silly not to think of this."

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Maid at Country Hotel._ "Please, sir, will you use the
hot water soon as there's an 'ole on the can?"]

* * * * *

A SILVER JUBILEE.

"Another!" said George, flinging down the card. "I have had just about
ENOUGH OF IT!" He spoke vehemently, with an intonation that I have tried
to convey by the employment of capitals. It was obvious that he was
deeply moved.

"Do you mind explaining?" I asked.

"It explains itself," he answered disgustedly, referring to the card. I
picked it up. It was a printed communication, in which somebody, whose
name I forget, requested the pleasure of George's presence at the
marriage of his daughter Something to Mr. Somebodyelse.

I read it aloud. "What's wrong with that?" I asked. "Were you in love
with her yourself?"

"I was not," said George shortly. "To the best of my knowledge I have
never even set eyes on the wretched girl, and never want to. My
implication in the affair rests solely on my having once been at sch