“Alass! he was neglectin it, and all his sober and industerous habits.  He begann to give dinners, and thought nothin of partys to Greenwich or Richmond.  He didn’t see his Hemily near so often:  although the hawdacious and misguided young man might have done so much more heasily now than before:  for now he kep a Broom!

“But there’s a tumminus to hevery Railway.  Fred’s was approachin:  in an evil hour he began making time-Bargings.  Let this be a warning to all young fellers, and Fred’s huntimely hend hoperate on them in a moral pint of vu!

“You all know under what favrabble suckemstanses the Great Hafrican Line, the Grand Niger Junction, or Gold Coast and Timbuctoo (Provishnal) Hatmospheric Railway came out four weeks ago:  deposit ninepence per share of 20L. (six elephant’s teeth, twelve tons of palm-oil, or four healthy niggers, African currency)—­the shares of this helegeble investment rose to 1, 2, 3, in the Markit.  A happy man was Fred when, after paying down 100 ninepences (3L. 15s.), he sold his shares for 250L.  He gave a dinner at the ‘Star and Garter’ that very day.  I promise you there was no Marsally there.

“Nex day they were up at 3 1/4.  This put Fred in a rage:  they rose to 5, he was in a fewry.  ‘What an ass I was to sell,’ said he, ’when all this money was to be won!’

“‘And so you were an Ass,’ said his partiklar friend, Colonel Claw, K.X.R., a director of the line, ’a double-eared Ass.  My dear fellow, the shares will be at 15 next week.  Will you give me your solemn word of honor not to breathe to mortal man what I am going to tell you?’

“‘Honor bright,’ says Fred.

“‘Hudson has joined the line.’  Fred didn’t say a word more, but went tumbling down to the City in his Broom.  You know the state of the streets.  Claw went by water.

“‘Buy me one thousand Hafricans for the 30th,’ cries Fred, busting into his broker’s; and they were done for him at 4 7/8.

*****

“Can’t you guess the rest?  Haven’t you seen the Share List? which says:—­

“‘Great Africans, paid 9d.; price 1/4 par.’

“And that’s what came of my pore dear friend Timmins’s time-barging.

“What’ll become of him I can’t say; for nobody has seen him since.  His lodgins in Jerming Street is to let.  His brokers in vain deplores his absence.  His Uncle has declared his marriage with his housekeeper; and the Morning Erald (that emusing print) has a paragraf yesterday in the fashnabble news, headed ’Marriage in High Life.—­The rich and beautiful Miss Mulligatawney, of Portland Place, is to be speedily united to Colonel Claw, K.X.R.’

“Jeames.”

JEAMES ON THE GAUGE QUESTION.