trap a table supporting a lounge), and a cup of tea. (Another table appears through another trap, bringing up with it a tray and a five o’clock set.) And now I think we are comfortable. (Helps himself to tea, smokes, &c.) I must tell you I think my piece excellent.  And all the puppets that have performed in it have played extremely well.  I hope you like my piece as well as I do myself.  I trust you are not bored with this chatter, but I am not good at a speech.  However, as I have to catch a train in twenty minutes, I will tell you a story occupying a quarter of an hour.  I repeat, as I have to catch a train—­I repeat, as I have to catch a train—­

Entire Audience. And so have we! [Exeunt. (Thus the Play ends in smoke.)

* * * * *

HOW TO SAVE LONDON.

(Rather more than a Fairy Story.)

JOHN SMITH, of London, sat in front of his fire pondering over the fact that, at a great sacrifice to the interests of his native city, the coal dues had been abolished, and yet his bill for fuel was no lighter.  He watched the embers as they died away, when all of a sudden a small creature appeared before him.  He could not account for her presence, and did not notice from whence she came.  But she was there, sure enough, and began to address him.

“JOHN SMITH, of London,” she began, in a small but admirably distinct voice, “I am the Fairy Domestic Economy, and I have come to warn you that, unless you wake up, you will come to grief.”

“Wake up?” queried J.S.  “Wake up about what?”

“Why, the election of the London County Council, to be sure!” returned the Fairy, impatiently.  “Here, the election is close upon you, and the chances are twenty to one that you will let it pass without recording your vote.”  “What election?”

“Bless the man!” exclaimed the Fairy.  “He does not know that the Members of the L.C.C., the Masters of London, are to be chosen on Saturday, the 5th of March, and will from that date remain in power for four years!”

And then the Fairy showed him the possible future, explaining that it was in his hands to alter it.  The vision she conjured up before him seemed intensely idiotic.  Everything was to be done for nothing.  There were to be free railways, free tramways, free bakeries, free butchers’ shops, free ginger-beer manufactories, free clothiers, free hosiers, free boot-makers, free gas companies, free waterworks—­in fact, everything was to be gratis.

“But somebody must pay for it!” said JOHN SMITH, of London.

“Why, of course,” returned the Fairy, “and you are to be the paymaster.  You will have to pay about five shillings in the pound as a commencement, with additional crowns to follow!”

“But how am I to avoid this fate?” cried JOHN SMITH, in a tone of genuine alarm.

“By voting for the Moderates, and doing your best to keep out the Progressives.  And, mind, don’t forget my warning.”