Hedda (slowly, and wearily).  No, we shall really have to set up as Fairies in reduced circumstances, now.

George (cheering up).  Still, we shall see Aunt JULIE every day, and that will be something, and I’ve got back my old slippers.  We shan’t be altogether without some amusements, eh?

Hedda (crosses the floor).  Not while I have one thing to amuse myself with, at all events.

George (beaming with joy).  Oh, Heaven be praised and thanked for that!  My goodness, so you have!  And what may that be, HEDDA, eh?

Hedda (at the doorway, with suppressed scorn).  Yes, GEORGE, you have the old slippers of the attentive Aunt, and I have the horse-pistols of the deceased General!

George (in an agony).  The pistols!  Oh, my goodness! what pistols?

Hedda (with cold eyes).  General GABLER’S pistols—­same which I shot—­(recollecting herself)—­no, that’s THACKERAY, not IBSEN—­a very different person. [She goes through the back Drawing-room.

George (at doorway, shouting after her).  Dearest HEDDA, not those dangerous things, eh?  Why, they have never once been known to shoot straight yet!  Don’t!  Have a catapult.  For my sake, have a catapult! [Curtain.

* * * * *

Bow-Wow!

  The RAIKES’ teeth were bared—­a most terrible sight!—­
    At the Messenger Companies.  Now all seems joy
    For the Public, the P.O., the Co., and the Boy! 
  The Dog in the Manger JOHN BULL did affright,
  But—­his bark is perhaps rather worse than his bite!

* * * * *

[Illustration:  SONS OF BRITANNIA; OR, THE UNITED SERVICE.

[The Senior Admiral of the Fleet, SIR PROVO WILLIAM PARRY WALLIS, G.C.B., who was in the action between the British Frigate Shannon and the American Frigate Chesapeake on June 1st, 1813 (taking command of the Shannon after the disabling of Captain BROKE), celebrated the hundredth anniversary of his birthday on April 12th, 1891.

Lieutenant GRANT “displayed great bravery and judgment” (Times) in the defence of Thobal against the Manipuris, April, 1891.]]

* * * * *

SONS OF BRITANNIA.

1813—­1891.

Britannia loquitur:—­

  From Boston Bay to Thobal fort
    Is a far cry, but bravery bridges
  The centuries, and of space makes sport. 
    The shot that swept the salt sea-ridges
  When VERE BROKE of the Shannon smote
    The foe, and, struck, left WALLIS smiting,—­
  Sends echoes down the years that float
    To Thobal o’er the sounds of fighting. 
  Memories of greatness make men great! 
    Brave centenarian, you with