half-a-dozen fivers.

"By the way," he added, "I have a passion for biscuits; will you join me in
one?" and he proffered a small tin. "I eat so many of them," he said, "that
I can write all my memoranda on the slips of paper from the tins, and these
I keep in my pocket-book. My money I keep next my season."

It was here that I returned the pocket-book.

* * * * *

"THE OPTIMISTIC WAITERS.

'SOON WE SHALL GO BARK TO OUR WORK TRIUMPHANTLY.'"--_Evening Paper._

We hope that in the case of certain restaurants the bark will not be so bad
as the bite.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Mabel_ (_who has something in her eye_). "IT'S STILL VERY
SORE, MUMMY. SHALL I GARGLE IT?"]

* * * * *

THE DEAD TREE.

(_Being a terrible result of reading too much poetry in the modern
manner._)