class="i2">Reading about my crimes;

But one strong foe is what we lack

To put us on our best behaviour;

That's why in you I welcome back

The Coalition's saviour.

AUCTION IN THE SPACIOUS TIMES.

"It is Our Royal pleasure to will and declare one diamond," said the Virgin Queen, when the Keeper of the Privy Purse had arranged her hand for her. Sir Walter Raleigh, who sat on her left, was on his feet in a twinkling. "Like to like, 'twas ever thus," he murmured, bowing low to his Sovereign. "I crave leave to call two humble clubs, as becometh so mean a subject of Your Majesty," It is not known whether his allusion to the Queen's call was intended to refer to the diamond rings upon Her Majesty's fingers or to the scintillating glint in Her Majesty's eyes, but she inclined her head graciously in acknowledgment of his remarks before turning to her partner.

"What say you, my Lord of Leicester?" she asked. "Wilt support a poor weak woman?" His Lordship, however, looked down his noble nose and said nothing for quite a long time. He found himself, to use a vulgar phrase, in the consommé. His hand contained the ace, king and six other spades, nothing to write home about in hearts or clubs, and one small diamond. To take from his partner the right to play the hand would be the act of a fool—the mere thought made him raise a hand to his neck as though to assure himself of its continuity. Even failure to support her call would be looked on as ungallant, if nothing worse.

"How now, sirrah? Art sleeping in Our presence?" prompted the Queen sharply.

The Earl swallowed noisily once or twice, just to show that he was awake, and then plunged.

"An it please you, Madam, two diamonds," he muttered, with but a sorry show of his habitual arrogance.

"Double!" said Sir Francis Drake in crisp seamanlike tones, whereat the Earl of Leicester was seen to fumble for the hilt of his rapier.

"Stay, my Lord," his liege commanded; "'tis true the Knight hath left his manners in Devonshire, or on the Spanish main mayhap, but keep your brawl for an hour and place more fitting. We redouble."

A momentary silence followed the Queen's discourse, cut short by the uncouth ejaculation "'Ods fish!" which escaped from Sir Francis apparently without his consent. He embarked on an apology at once, based on the fact that he was but an honest sailor; but, meeting with no encouragement, he gave it up and fell to sucking his teeth.

Sir Walter meanwhile made good use of the interval to perfect a flower of speech signifying, in a manner worthy a courtier of his reputation, that he was content. His effort drew from the Queen a glance as nearly approaching the "glad eye" as any that august spinster was ever known to dispense. The Laird of Kenilworth announced that he also was content; but historians should accept the statement with reserve. Sir Francis either wasn't sure whether the rules of the game allowed him to double again, or else had just enough tact not to do so. The game then proceeded.

Sir Walter led the ace of clubs. The appearance of the noble lord's solitary little diamond, as he laid down his hand, was greeted by a loud hiccough from the old salt, and the Queen herself was only saved from swooning by the timely administrations of a page with a flask of sal-volatile.

When, fourth in hand, she trumped the honest sailor's ace, her partner had the hardihood to make conventional inquiry as to whether she had any clubs. Her Majesty uttered in reply the one dreadful word, "Treason," thus avoiding with true statesmanship any direct answer to the question, and indicating clearly her opinion of his two-diamond call. The Keeper of the Privy Purse shot out a lean hand and gathered in the trick.

With the help of the ace of spades in dummy, the ace of hearts in her own hand, and a discriminating use of her Royal prerogative in the matter of following suit, all went well until the odd trick had been won. After that, however, Sir Francis, who had not doubled without good reason, proceeded to deal out six diamonds, led by the ace, king and queen. His partner unwisely allowed his feelings to get the better of him. "As Will Shakspeare hath it," he observed with unction, "'now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer—'" but stopped on a sudden, with ears and scalp twitching horribly.

"Ho without! Summon the guard!" roared the last of the Tudors, and immediately an N.C.O. and six private beef-eaters appeared on the scene. "Convey Our compliments to the Governor of the Tower," she continued, addressing the N.C.O., "and bid him confine the Earl of Leicester during Our pleasure. My Lord," she added, turning to her luckless partner, "'twere well, methinks, you should have leisure in which to reflect on the folly of trifling with a woman."

It is greatly to the Earl's credit that at this point he made strenuous endeavours to surrender his sword in accordance with the drill-book, but as it refused to come out of its scabbard he was obliged to unbutton the frog from his belt and hand over the weapon complete with leather gear. This formality achieved, he was led away to durance vile.

Sir Francis, poor fellow, fared scarcely better than the Earl. "Begone to sea, Sir Knight," hissed the Queen; "mayhap the Dons will teach you more becoming manners. Begone, I say, and look to 't your ships return not empty, else shall you not receive payment of your winnings."

Sir Francis went.

A glance at the pitiable condition of Sir Walter caused Her Majesty's heart to soften somewhat. "Come, Sir," she cooed, "an arm, prithee, and We will seek a place where you may read to Us the mummings of this strange bard, Will Shakspeare."

Sir Walter at once regained control of his nerve-centres and escorted Her Majesty from the painful scene.

THE ELUSIVE PEST.

John Bull. "GOT HIM!"

The Profiteer. "I DON'T THINK!"

Patient. "And you really think there is nothing wrong with my eyesight?"

Oculist. "Nothing at all. Perfectly normal."

Patient. "Ah, then it must be the way I've been holding my putter."

GEORGE AND THE COW-DRAGON.

The "rockerty-tockerty-tock" refrain of the carriage-wheels below me changed into a jarring whine as the train came to a full stop. I looked out on a dim-lit platform which seemed to be peopled only by a squad of milk-cans standing shoulder to shoulder like Noah's Ark soldiers.

As the engine shrieked and plunged into its collar again the door was jerked open and a man projected himself into the carriage and, opening the window so that the compartment was flooded with cold air, leaned out and resumed his conversation with a friend till the train bore him