et there, and who are
you?"

"An aeronaut. If you will leave the shelter of this particularly fine
tree and look up above, you will see a balloon; attached to the balloon
is a car, and attached to the car is myself."

"And do you propose to stay up there indefinitely? It isn't very
amusing, is it?"

"Not particularly. If you can suggest a method of escape, I shall be
only too happy to descend."

"Climb out of the car, and then down the tree-trunk. Nothing could be
simpler."

"Pardon me, but have you ever tried that particular form of gymnastic
exercise? Directly I begin to get out of the car, she will topple over,
and I wouldn't for the world give you the trouble of collecting my
fragments at the bottom."

"Please don't. It would be like making one of those wretched toy-houses
out of bricks, and I know I should never fit in the pieces properly.
Still, you can't stay up there for ever, can you, now?"

"Not possibly. For one thing, I have not tasted food for twelve hours,
and I shall expire if I don't get some presently."

"I might bring you a sandwich, if you have got a piece of string you can
let down," said the girl, with the easy _badinage_ of an old friend. It
is not every day that one is privileged to encounter a tree'd
balloonist, and she felt that the proprieties were not particularly at
home in such an _al fresco_ environment.

"Thanks," responded the aerial voice, "but I prefer to reach firm
ground, if it can any way be managed. I say, could you get me a ladder?"

"Yes. I'll hunt up the gardener, and tell him to bring one. You think
you can get down that way?"

[Illustration: "'WHAT THE MISCHIEF ARE YOU DOING IN MY PEAR TREE?'"]

"I think so. If the gardener holds the ladder tight against my car, it
should fix it pretty firmly, and then I can climb on to the ladder. By
the way, you are awfully good to take all this trouble on behalf of an
entire stranger. I forgot to make the observation earlier, because, you
see, we grow accustomed to finding ourselves uninvited guests. I once
dropped into the middle of a Royal Garden Party."

"Did you, really? Tell me all about it," said the girl, forgetting her
errand of mercy.

"Oh, they thought at first I was a Nihilist or a Fenian or something,
come to blow up the whole Royal Family. I escaped finally by explaining
that the Prince of Wales--who was fortunately absent--had hired me to
make the descent by way of affording a little relief to the tedium of
t