decide. It is not now the titles of those very respectable works which
issued from the Minerva Press that I ask you to remember,--it is to
invent a title for mine,--My Novel!"

MR. CAXTON (clapping his hands gently).--"Excellent! capital! Nothing
can be better; simple, natural, pertinent, concise--"

PISISTRATUS.--"What is it, sir, what is it? Have you really thought of a
title to My Novel?"

MR. CAXTON.--"You have hit it yourself,--'My Novel.' It is your Novel;
people will know it is your Novel. Turn and twist the English language
as you will, be as allegorical as Hebrew, Greek, Roman, Fabulist, or
Puritan, still, after all, it is your Novel, and nothing more nor less
than your Novel."

PISISTRATUS (thoughtfully, and sounding the words various ways).--"'My
Novel!'--um-um! 'My Novel!' rather bold--and curt, eh?"

MR. CAXTON.--"Add what you say you intend it to depict,--Varieties in
English Life."

MY MOTHER.--"'My Novel; or, Varieties in English Life'--I don't think it
sounds amiss. What say you, Roland? Would it attract you in a
catalogue?"

My uncle hesitates, when Mr. Caxton exclaims imperiously.--"The thing is
settled! Don't disturb Camarina."

SQUILLS.--"If it be not too great a liberty, pray who or what is