e action to the word.

"Now you'll be screwed," said CHARLIE, "like the pegs of the--"

"On one glass of weak whiskey-and-water--never!"

"But why hasn't a brick any fluidity?" asked SARAH, quite patiently.

"First of all, listen to this. That whiskey-and-water is now inside
me. I want you to understand what _inside_ means. Go and stand in the
passage, and shut the door of this room after you."

"But, Uncle," said SARAH, patiently, "why hasn't a brick any--"

"Hush, SARAH, hush!" said the obedient CHARLIE. "It is our duty to
obey Uncle WILLIAM in all things."

So the two children went out of the room, and shut the door after
them. Uncle WILLIAM went to the door, and locked it.

"Now then," he said, cheerily, "I am inside. And where are you?"

"Outside."

"Yes--and outside you'll stop. One of the servants will put you to
bed." And Uncle WILLIAM went back to the decanter.

* * * * *

[Illustration: ANOTHER SCENE FROM THE PANTOMIME AT ST. STEPHEN'S.

_The Illuminated Doorway. Brilliant effect lately introduced into the
House of Commons._]

* * * * *

A DEAD FROST.

When I saw you on "a January morning,"
With a very little pair of skates indeed,
And the frosty glow your fairy face adorning,
I was suddenly from other passions freed.
And the year at its imperial beginning
Showed the woman who alone was worth the winning;
Though the growing flame awhile I tried to smother
Like a brother;
And that's a very common phase indeed,
As we read.

My hat and stick I suddenly found fleeting,
And they whistled o'er the surface, smooth and black,
And the ice, with an unwonted warmth of greeting,
Slapt me suddenly and hard upon the back.
I didn't mind your laughing, if the laughter
Had left no sting of scorn to rankle after.
Though I'd joyously have flung myself before you
To adore you,
Still to sit with all one's might upon the ice
Isn't nice.

When I met you in the lordly local ball-room,
Where you queen'd it, the suburban world's desire,
Though your programme for my name had left but small room,
I somehow snatched five valses from the fire.
And I did stout supper-service for your mother,
While you wove the self-same spells o'er many another,
And I said, no doubt, the sort of things that they did,
In the shaded
Little nook benea