that her place behind the counter was taken by that little red-haired
Celestine.

"'Where's Georgette?' said I.

"'Ah, M'sieur, she has gone,' said Celestine. 'Figure to yourself,
this 'Orace, who used to write with ardour and spirit, sent her
yesterday a poor pitiful note. It made one's heart bleed to read
it, such halting appeal, such inarticulate sentiment. _"Le pauvre
garçon!"_ cried Georgette, "his passion is so strong he cannot find
words for it. He is stricken dumb with excess of feeling. I must be at
his side to comfort him." And she has flown like the wind to Calais,
that she may be affianced to him. But if M'sieur desires to buy the
soap I know the kind you prefer.'

"So you see me," concluded Ronnie plaintively, "bankrupt in love and
money. Three francs, Jim, and I'll chuck in a packet of post-cards."

* * * * *

SONGS OF SIMLA.

I.--THE BUREAUCRAT.

Along a narrow mountain track
Stalking supreme, alone,
Head upwards, hands behind his back,
He swings his sixteen stone.

Quit of the tinsel and the glare