e
answer's the Louisiana Glide."

"To finish up," said Margery, "we grasp each other firmly, prance
round, two bars...."

"That sounds a bit better," said John.

" ... then waltz four bars," continued Margery, "and that's all. Come
on, now."

They came on....

"Good," said Margery as they finished up; "he's doing it splendidly,
Cecilia."

John beamed complacently.

"I got through that last bit rather well," he said; "'pon my word,
there's more in this dancing than I thought. I quite enjoyed that
twinkling business."

"Have another one," I suggested.

"Don't mind if I do," said John. "May I have the pleasure?" with a
courtly bow to Margery.

They re-commenced.

"That's right," said Margery; "now two forward."

"I must have a natural genius for dancing," said John, conversing
easily; "I seem to ... Do we twinkle next?"

"Yes," said Margery.

"I seem to fall into it naturally."

"Look out!" shrieked Margery.

I don't know exactly what happened; I rather think John got his gears
mixed up in the twinkling business. At any rate, one of his feet shot
up in the air, he made a wild grab at nothing and tripped heavily
backwards into the hearth. The piano was drowned in general uproar.

John arose with difficulty from the ashes and addressed himself
haughtily to Cecilia.

"I can understand that these two," he said, waving a black but
contemptuous hand at Margery and myself, "should scream with delight.
Their whole conception of humour is bound up with banana-skins and
orange-peel. But may I ask why _you_ should have hysterics because
your husband has fallen into the fireplace?"

"'You seemed to fall into it so naturally,'" I quoted in a shaky
voice.

"Darling," sobbed Cecilia, "I am trying--please--if only you would
take that piece of soot off your nose--" She dabbed her eyes and wept
helplessly.

John rubbed his nose quickly and walked to the door.

"If you want my opinion of dancing," he said bitterly, "I think it's a
low pagan habit."

"'Twinkle, twinkle, little star,'" sang Margery.

"Bah!" said John, and banged the door.

* * * * *

THE NEW UTOPIA.

[Suggested by Mr. J. H. THOMAS'S book, just out, with a Red Flag on the
wrapper.]

O England, with what joy I hail
The master-hand that calms and cools
In THOMAS'S entrancing tale,
_When Labour Rules_.

There will be no more serfs and slaves;
There will be no more feudal fools;
Th