et in a large parlour, handsomely decorated
with flags and evergreens, and seated ourselves at a board well laden
with creature comforts, both solid and liquid. The toasts were happy,
and the speeches were good, and we kept it up until long after midnight.
I never enjoyed myself more in my life. I drank thirty-eight bottles of
soda-water. But do you know that that is not a reliable article for a
steady drink? It is too gassy. When I got up in the morning I was full
of gas, and as tight as a balloon. I hadn't an article of clothing that
I could wear, except my umbrella.

After breakfast I found the Major making grand preparations again. I
asked what it was for, and he said this was the Prince of Wales's
birthday. It had to be celebrated that evening. We celebrated it. Much
against my expectations, we had another splendid time. We kept it up
till some time after midnight again. I was tired of soda, and so I
changed off for lemonade. I drank several quarts. You may consider
lemonade better for a steady drink than soda-water; but it isn't so. In
the morning it had soured on my stomach. Biting anything was out of the
question--it was equivalent to lockjaw. I was beginning to feel worn and
sad too.

Shortly after luncheon, I found the Major in the midst of some more
preparations. He said this was the Princess Alice's birthday. I
concealed my grief.

"Who is the Princess Alice?" I asked.

"Daughter of her Majesty the Queen," the Major said.

I succumbed. That night we celebrated the Princess Alice's birthday. We
kept it up as late as usual, and really I enjoyed it a good deal. But I
could not stand lemonade. I drank a couple of kegs of ice-water.

In the morning I had toothache, and cramps, and chilblains, and my teeth
were on edge from the lemonade, and I was still pretty gassy, I found
the inexorable Major at it again.

"Who is this for?" I asked.

"His Royal Highness the Duke of Edinburgh," he said.

"Son of the Queen?"

"Yes."

"And this is his birthday--you haven't made any mistake?"

"No; the celebration comes off to-night."

I bowed before the new calamity. We celebrated the day. I drank part of
a barrel of cider. Among the first objects that met my weary and
jaundiced eye the next day was the Major at his interminable
preparations again. My heart was broken, and I wept.

"Whom do we mourn this time?" I said.

"The Princess Beatrice, daughter of the Queen."

"Here, now," I said; "it is time to inqui