Until the dawning light,
Until the moths all go by day
Where I wish they'd go by night.

* * * * *

[Illustration: SPEECHES TO BE LIVED DOWN--IF POSSIBLE!

_Sympathetic Lady Guest_. "DON'T BE UNHAPPY ABOUT THE RAIN, DEAR MRS.
BOUNDERSON--IT WILL SOON BE OVER, AND YOUR GARDEN WILL BE LOVELIER
THAN EVER!"

_Little Mrs. Goldmore Bounderson_ (_who is giving her first Garden
Party_). "YES; BUT I'M AFRAID IT WILL KEEP MY MOST DESIRABLE GUESTS
FROM COMING!"]

* * * * *

ON THE BRIDGE!

(_A MUCH MODERNISED VERSION OF "THE VISION OF MIRZAH."_)

On the second day of the week, commonly called Saint Monday (which
according to the Customs of my Forefathers, I always keep as Holiday),
after having washed myself, and offered up my Morning Devotions at the
shrine of Nicotine, I turned over the pages of _Bradshaw_, with a view
to passing the rest of the day in some more or less Rural Retirement.

As I was here confusing myself with the multitudinous Complexities
of this recondite Tome, I fell into a profound Contemplation of the