he's great," he said. "Say, would it be too much to ask you to
introduce me?"

"Not at all," said the brother, who was as pleased at his sister's
success as though it were his own.

The American did not return to his own country the next day, nor for
many days after; and when he did he was engaged to Miss Gladys Bewlay.

Isn't that a pretty fairy story? and almost every word of it is true.

* * * * *

Illustration: "MY DEAR OLD FELLOW! WHAT'S THE MATTER? THE SEA'S LIKE A
DUCK-POND!"

"I KNOW, OLD BOY--BUT I'VE TAKEN SIX--DIFFERENT--REMEDIES."

* * * * *

A SEASIDE "SONG SCENA."

Yesterday I celebrated the beginning of my holidays by patronising _The
Melodities_ on the beach. _The Melodities_ are a band of entertainers
who draw enormous salaries for giving a couple of performances daily in
a kind of luxurious open-air theatre.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," announced the Manager soon after I had taken my
seat, "our first item will be a Song Scena entitled _The Moon_, by
Bertie Weston, assisted by six members of the company." A quiver of
expectation ran through the crowded audience.

Bertie Weston, wearing a uniform resembling (I imagine) that of a
Patagonian Vice-Admiral, advanced mincingly to the footlights, and the
six others, similarly attired, ranged themselves in a row behind him.
Behind these again dropped a back-cloth representing a stone balustrade,
blue hills and fleecy clouds.

There was a burst of warm applause, in response to which Bertie politely
bowed his thanks. Without further preliminary he commenced--

The crescent moon on high
Is shining in the sky.

Here the six turned up their faces and gazed pensively at the heavens
(it was still broad daylight, by the way), at the same time resting
their chins on their right hands and their right elbows on their left
hands.

The sun is gone,
The stars are wan,
Oh come, my love, we'll wander, you and I.

Here the six ceased to regard the sky, split into pairs and by
pantomimic gesture invited one another to wander.

Across the hills we'll go,
While birds sing soft and low,

The singer paused for an instant, while the six, now formed into a
semicircle, hummed together softly a suggestion of distant nightingales.
Not an imitation--that would be too banal--but a suggestion. In point of
fact I thought I detected the air of "The Little Grey Home in the West.