ing silver gridirons. He never found any, and the
more he inquired, the more puzzled he became. He was informed that a
treatise on the subject existed, but neither at the British Museum,
nor at any of the newspaper offices, could he obtain an example of
this rare work, which people asserted that they had seen and read.

Finally SWEZEY made the acquaintance of a lady who was rumoured darkly
to be learned in the matter. To her he poured forth expressions of his
consuming desire to be initiated, and to sacrifice at the shrine.

"There is not any shrine," said his acquaintance.

[Illustration: "Then what in the universe is it all about?"]

"Well, I guess I want bad to be a Soul--an honorary one, of course--a
temporary member."

"There are conditions," said the Priestess.

"If there's a subscription"----SWEZEY began.

"There is not any subscription."

"If there's an oath"----

"There is not any oath."

"Well what are the conditions, anyhow?"

"Are you extremely beautiful?"

Among the faults of SWEZEY, personal vanity was not reckoned. He shook
his head sadly, at the same time intimating that he guessed no one
would turn round in Broadway to look at the prettiest Englishwoman
alive.

Afterwards, he reflected that this was hardly the right thing to have
said.

"Are you extremely diverting?"

SWEZEY admitted that gaiety was not his forte. Still, he pined for
information.

"What does the Society _do_?" he asked.

"There is not any Society."

"Then why do they call themselves Souls?"

"But they don't call themselves anything whatever."

"Then why are they called Souls?"

"Because they----but no! That is the Mystery which cannot be divulged
to the profane."

"Then what in the universe is it all about?" asked SWEZEY; but this
was a problem to which no answer was vouchsafed.

SWEZEY is still going around, and still asking questions. But he has
moments of despondency, in which he is inclined to allow that the poor
islanders possess, after all, something akin to that boasted
inheritance of his native land, the Great American Joke. "Guess
they've played it on me," is the burden of his most secret
meditations.

* * * * *

THE INFANT'S GUIDE TO KNOWLEDGE.

(_Revised to date by Mr. Punch._)

_Question._ What is an Infant?

_Answer._ A guileless child who has not yet reached twenty-one years
of age.

_Q._ What is a year?

_A._ An unknown quantity to a lady af