FROM ROBERT.—­“Sir, I’m proud of my furrin co-profeshunal LHEROT, the himminint Waiter, wot nobbled the bomb-ta-ra (hif I may so igspress my sentimenx) waggybun, RAVACHOL.  This Waiter is wot my french frend calls a ‘Tray bong Gassong,’ and the wunnerful manner the french Waiters has of carryin a tray loded with drinkabels is worthy of the hippythep.  He sez orlso has is name, hinsted of LHEROT, ort to be andid down to posterittory as ’L’HEROS’—­wich word as rote down by hisself means ‘The Hero.’  He got a 1000 Franks, wich is rayther more nor wos ever got by one BOB.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  A WAITING GAME.

THE OLD KEEPER.  “GENTLY!  GENTLY!—­MY BEAUTY!  I’LL SAY ’WHEN’!”]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  REALLY PLEASANT!

SIX MILES FROM HOME, HORSE DEAD LAME, AWFULLY TENDER FEET, AND HORRIBLY
TIGHT BOOTS.]

* * * * *

MR. PUNCH’S BOAT-RACE NOVEL.

STONYBROKE.

CHAPTER I.

IT was the eve of the University Boat-Race.  In the remote East the gorgeous August sun was sinking to his rest behind the purple clouds, gilding with his expiring rays the elevated battlements of Aginanwater Court, the ancestral seat of His Grace the Duke of AVADRYNKE, K.C.B., G.I.N., whose Norman features might have been observed convulsively pressed against the plate-glass window of his alabaster dining-hall.  There was in the atmosphere a strange electric hush, scarcely broken by the myriad voices of hoarse betting-men, raucously roaring out the market odds of “Fifty to one.  Oxbridge!” or “Two ponies to a thick ’un, Camford!” Well would it have been for the Duke of AVADRYNKE had he never offered the hospitality of his famous river-side residence to the Oxbridge Crew.  But the Duke had the courage of his ancient boating-race whose banner waved proudly upon the topmost turret, bearing upon its crimson folds the proud family motto, “Dum Vivo Bibo.”

And the sun went down, and within Aginanwater Court the sounds of wild revelry shook the massive beams.

CHAPTER II.

THE Oxbridge Crew still sat in the marble supper-room, amid the debris of the feast that the Duke’s Seneschal had laid out for them.  The floor was paved with Magnums and Maximums of the best Heidanseekerer champagne, most of them as empty as the foolish head of the Duchess of AVADRYNKE, which was at that moment reposing upon the brawny chest of Lord PODOPHLIN, the celebrated No. 5 of the Oxbridge Crew.  On a raised dais at the end of the room the ladies of the Tarara corps de ballet were performing the final steps of the Sinuous Shadow-dance, specially dedicated to the Oxbridge Crew by the chef d’orchestre of Tarara’s Halls.