Beef, pudding, cherry-tart, and cream,
What more could mortal man desire?
I munched them idly in a dream,
My head sang like a village choir.
I fumbled with the silver pot
From which that tawny torrent ran;
I heard you say it mattered not,
To cheer a miserable man.
So here I thank you; may I be
Extinct as is the Behemoth
Rather than spill by Fate's decree
Once more the mustard on your cloth.

* * * * *

THE NEXT AFRICAN MISSION.

(_TELEGRAPHIC PRÉCIS OF THE NEGOCIATIONS._)

_First Day._--Arrived safely at the Sultan's capital. Everything in
proper order. Draft Treaty in my trunk with my diplomatic uniform.
Escort in marching order. Ammunition in waggon. Quite ready to
commence negociations. Only waiting for the conjuring paraphernalia
of Herr VON KLEVERMANN to come up with us. Thought that that special
morning performance before the King and Queen of the Cannibal Islands
would delay matters.

_Second Day._--Herr VON KLEVERMANN and his traps have arrived in
camp. Looked over the conjuring tricks. Sorry to find that one of the
best (the Inexhaustible Bottle) has been stolen by the Queen of the