iarly damp situation.

[Illustration: Limbs of the Law.]

The end is approaching: for the first time I notice some of the bolder
Revellers begin to smile. At length re-enter the Giants, Great
Grandfather Christmas & Co., and the Indians. They rescue Columbine from
the fountain. Now I think I see the plot. I mention this to neighbour,
triumphantly; but he says I mustn't talk while Royalty is leaving, as
ELIZABETH wouldn't like it. So we join in "_God Save the Queen_!" and
it's all over. _Exeunt omnes._ Must get a book.

* * * * *

WHIM-BUILDIN'.

(_By Dumb Crambo, Junior._)

[Illustration: Under Canvas.]

[Illustration: Marks-man-ship.]

[Illustration: Pay Villian.]

[Illustration: Shooting from the Shoulder.]

[Illustration: Sight Adjustor.]

[Illustration: De finer.]

* * * * *

MORE JILLS IN OFFICE.

SCENE--_Postal Counter of Shop in another part of Town._ _Two more Young
Ladies_ (Miss RUTINA REDTAPE _and_ Miss MINKS) _discovered. At the
counter a stout but agreeable Youth purchasing post-cards. Various
Members of General Public behind, waiting._ Miss REDTAPE _is engaged at
the telegraphic instrument_.

_Stout but Agreeable Youth (to_ Miss MINKS). Let's have another look at
the thin ones.

_Miss Minks._ Well, you _are_ a difficult one to please! (_With a
killing glance._) _There!_ Now, perhaps you'll make up your mind!

_St. Y._ Not so difficult to please as you fancy. But I _am_ a little
particular about post-cards. I write a good deal on post-cards.

_Miss Minks (archly)._ I hope you don't write your _secrets_ on
post-cards!

_St. Y._ If I do, you'll be able to read 'em, you know.

_Miss Minks._ Do you suppose I've any time for reading rubbish?
Besides--(_more archly still_)--I don't even know your handwriting.

_St. Y._ I write a very nice hand. You shall see it some day.

_Impatient Member of Public._ Will you kindly tell me if this letter
will go for a penny? (_Pathetically._) I've been waiting some time!

_Miss Minks (in injured tone)._ I can't possibly attend to more than one
at a time! (_To_ Stout Youth.) You'll get me into trouble, you see, if
you're so faddy about choosing. You are so _silly_ over it!

_St. Y._ I daresay you'll think it rather odd, but I don't seem able to
make up my mind. (_Insinuatingly._) Suppose _you_ choose for me?

_Miss Minks._ Perhaps you won't like what _I_ choose?

_St. Y._ Don't make yo