“He smiled and shook ’is ’ead at ’im, but Henery Walker on’y kept opening and shutting ’is mouth, and at last ’e went outside without saying a word.

“‘And Sam Jones see it, too,’ ses Bob Pretty; ‘didn’t you, Sam?’

“Sam didn’t answer ’im.

“‘And Charlie Hall and Jack Minns and a lot more,’ ses Bob; ’besides, I see it myself.  I can believe my own eyes, I s’pose?’

“‘We’ll have the law on you,’ ses Sam Jones.

“‘As you like,’ ses Bob Pretty; ’but I tell you plain, I’ve got all the bills for this properly made out, upstairs.  And there’s pretty near a dozen of you as’ll ’ave to go in the box and swear as you saw the tiger.  Now, can I sell any of you a bit o’ pork afore you go?  It’s delicious eating, and as soon as you taste it you’ll know it wasn’t grown in Claybury.  Or a pair o’ ducks wot ’ave come from two ’undered miles off, and yet look as fresh as if they was on’y killed last night.’

“George Kettle, whose ducks ’ad gone the night afore, went into the front room and walked up and down fighting for ’is breath, but it was all no good; nobody ever got the better o’ Bob Pretty.  None of ’em could swear to their property, and even when it became known a month later that Bob Pretty and the tramp knew each other, nothing was done.  But nobody ever ’eard any more of the tiger from that day to this.”

A MIXED PROPOSAL

Major Brill, late of the Fenshire Volununteers, stood in front of the small piece of glass in the hatstand, and with a firm and experienced hand gave his new silk hat a slight tilt over the right eye.  Then he took his cane and a new pair of gloves, and with a military but squeaky tread, passed out into the road.  It was a glorious day in early autumn, and the soft English landscape was looking its best, but despite the fact that there was nothing more alarming in sight than a few cows on the hillside a mile away, the Major paused at his gate, and his face took on an appearance of the greatest courage and resolution before proceeding.  The road was dusty and quiet, except for the children playing at cottage doors, and so hot that the Major, heedless of the fact that he could not replace the hat at exactly the same angle, stood in the shade of a tree while he removed it and mopped his heated brow.

He proceeded on his way more leisurely, overtaking, despite his lack of speed, another man who was walking still more slowly in the shade of the hedge.

“Fine day, Halibut,” he said, briskly; “fine day.”

“Beautiful,” said the other, making no attempt to keep pace with him.

“Country wants rain, though,” cried the Major over his shoulder.

Halibut assented, and walking slowly on, wondered vaguely what gaudy color it was that had attracted his eye.  It dawned on him at length that it must be the Major’s tie, and he suddenly quickened his pace, by no means reassured as the man of war also quickened his.