truck one. The president rose and addressed the
club thus:

"Gentlemen, we have listened to two most interesting stories; but time
flies--the clock has announced the commencement of another day. I regret
that, on account of the length of the first two narratives, we shall be
prevented from hearing a story from everyone; yet I should be loth to
break up this very pleasant meeting without hearing _one_ more recital.
I propose, however, that, in consideration for some of our worthy
guests--the gallant captain, to wit, and our comic friend here, who, as
you see, gentlemen, appear somewhat overwhelmed under the all-inspiring
influence of the punch--(laughter)--that the next narrative be of
shorter duration than the two preceding.

"According to order, the next tale ought to proceed from Professor
Cyanite."

Then, turning towards the professor, he inquired if he had a story ready
that would not take too long in the recital.

"Well, chairman," said the professor, "the fact is that I had prepared
somewhat a lengthy one for our meeting. At present I can't think of one
sufficiently short to wind up the evening."

"In that case," said the chairman, "perhaps Mr. Blackdeed will be able
to favour now."

Mr. Blackdeed begged to be excused. He said he could not think of one at
all. He hoped, however, to have one ready for the next evening.

"Dear, dear!" said the chairman; "this is really a very bad state of
affairs. Has no one some short story ready? Mr. Parnassus, cannot you
favour the company?"

The young poet, blushing slightly, replied, "I thought of bringing
before the company this evening--or, rather, last evening, I ought to
say--a curious little incident out of my own experience, which occurred
to me when travelling in Switzerland a few years ago. I have put it into
verse in the form of a ballad. It is not long, and if it will not weary
the company, I shall be most happy to sing it."

"A song, a song!" cried many voices at once. "Bravo, Parnassus! Hear,
hear!"

"The title of the ballad I am about to sing to you, gentlemen, I propose
calling 'The Glacier King.'"

"Good," said the chairman. "Silence, gentlemen, if you please. A song
from Mr. Parnassus."

A dead silence ensued, and the poet, after clearing his throat once or
twice, began in a clear, rich voice the following ballad:--

THE GLACIER KING.

In youth, when I mid mountains roamed, full well I can recall
That fearful night. The pale moonligh