fair time in Richmond the Lady Harriet, maid of
honour to her Majesty Queen Anne, was sitting in her boudoir at her
toilet table. She and all her maids and women friends who were
attending at her toilet were bored to death.

"Did any one ever know such a stupid, dismal life as we are leading?"
they declared. "In heaven's name, why doesn't some one think of
something to do that will vary the monotony of this routine existence?
We rise in the morning, make a toilet, go to her Majesty, make a
toilet, breakfast, read to her Majesty, make a toilet, dine, walk with
her Majesty, sup, unmake a toilet and go to bed! Of all the awful
existences I really believe ours has become the most so."

"It is as you say, but we cannot improve matters by groaning about it.
Lady Harriet, Sir Tristram has sent you some flowers," Nancy, Lady
Harriet's favourite, cried, handing them to her ladyship.

"Well, do you call that something new? because I don't! Why doesn't
the cook send me some flowers--or maybe the hostler--somebody,
something new? Take them out of my sight--and Sir Tristram with them,
in case he appears."

"Look at these diamonds: they sparkle like morning showers on the
flowers. The sight of them is enough to please any one!"

"It is not enough to please me," Lady Harriet declared petulantly,
determined to be pleased with nothing.

"Who is that? There is some one who wishes an audience with me! I'll
see no one."

"Ah," a man's voice announced from the curtains, "but I have come to
tell you of something new, Lady Harriet!"

"You? Sir Tristram? Is there anything new under the sun? If you really
have something to suggest that is worth hearing, you may come in."

"Listen, ladies! and tell me if I haven't conceived a clever thought.
The fair is on at Richmond----"

"Well--it is always on, isn't it?"

"Oh, no, ladies. Only once a year--this is the time. There is a fair
and there are cock-fights----"

"Ah--that sounds rather thrilling."

"And donkeys----"

"Oh, there are always donkeys--always!" the ladies cried, looking
hopelessly at poor Sir Tristram.

"I mean _real_ donkeys," the poor man explained patiently.

"So do we mean _real_ donkeys," they sighed.

"And there are the races--and--well, if you will come I am certain
there are several new attractions. Let me take you, Lady Harriet, and
I promise to make you forget your _ennui_ for once. Cock-fights
and----"

"Donkeys," she sighed, rising. "Very well, one mig