and introduce him to the bird just underneath the
nightingale, which is called the Talking Mynah.

But you are not very much interested in coal or poetry, and will
probably like the Sugar Birds best, for, if there is anything more
delightful than being a bird, especially a tiny little bird, blue or
green underneath, it must be living on sugar and having grapes stuck
in the bars of your cage.

The snakes of course are slimy sort of creatures and their house is
a long way off, and, though we fully agree with you that the monkeys
were just like real persons, we think we really ought to be starting
home now.

No, there is no time to see the lions again....

EVOE.

* * * * *

[Illustration: A DARK HORSE.

PROFITEER. "'ECONOMY'? NEVER HEARD THE NAME. LOOKS AS IF HE MIGHT
SPOIL MY BOOK, THOUGH."]

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE NICETIES OF CLOTHES ECONOMY.

"GOOD LORD! THAT FELLOW'S ACTUALLY HAD HIS OVERALLS _PATCHED_!"

"DARNED LITTLE FOP."]

* * * * *

THE CAP THAT FITS.

"Gerald, dear," said my wife the other evening, "I wish you'd write
and order some more notepaper; we've hardly any left."

"All right, Margaret. What sort do you want? The last lot was
beastly--too thick to make into spills and not large enough for
drawing up the fire."

"Well, here's a list of the different kinds they have in stock at
Jones and Robinson's."

I took it from her and glanced through it. "What do you say to 'Cream
Laid,' Margaret? I like the sound of that. It will make me feel so
nice and cool in the hot weather to think of the rows of fresh-faced
country girls, in their spotless white overalls, pouring the cream
delicately over the paper. I wonder how they get it to stop exactly at
the edge?"

"It wants a very cool head and steady hand, I expect," said Margaret;
"they'd all be picked cream-layers, of course. But how would you like
'thick hand-made paper with deckle edges'? What are deckle edges, I
wonder; and how is paper hand-made?"

"Rather like treading grapes, I fancy, only that's done by foot. I
mean they smash up the pulp with a very heavy pestle in a huge----"

"Mortar!" cried Margaret triumphantly.

"Yes; but am I telling this story or are you? Well, and then they put
it through a mangle----"

"Wurzel," said Margaret.

"Wrong--just a mangle, and roll it out flat, after which they deckle
the edges."

"But how