ss gibes."

"He's certain to write two columns about it in one of to-morrow or the
next day's papers," declared the Writer hopelessly. "Do you suppose
such a man would waste such material and copy as that for one of his
satirical eruptions?"

The Lord Mayor groaned aloud at the very thought of this new terror,
which threatened to descend like the sword of Damocles and crush all
the joy of his new civic dignity. With trembling hands he folded his
bright robe and glittering chain of office; the Lord Mayor felt that he
could no longer bear the sight of them.

"What on earth I can say to Mum for being out as late as this I don't
know," lamented the Mayor dolefully; "she will, of course, believe I
have been to another Pantomime; she always taxes me with having gone to
a Pantomime whenever I stay out late. However," sighed the Mayor, "I
shall show her the Dick Whittington which has really been the cause of
all the trouble."

It may have been that Sir Simon was still unusually agitated from the
scene he had recently passed through, to say nothing of the vague
foreboding caused by the knowledge that Mr. Learned Bore might
conceivably do anything within the next few days. There is a
possibility that his hand trembled; whatever may have been the cause,
as Sir Simon lifted the little Dick Whittington from the table, he let
it fall. As it crashed upon the hard polished floor it broke into a
dozen pieces, and the merry little figure of Dick Whittington was
hopelessly shattered. Sir Simon looked blankly at the Writer.

The Writer looked blankly back at Sir Simon.

As poor Sir Simon ruefully picked up the pieces, he looked disconsolate
enough to be upon the verge of tears. The Writer, although keenly
affected by the loss, tried, although unsuccessfully, to comfort him.

"Never mind, Dad, it can't be helped, and I suppose Dick Whittington
has served his day."

"To think I have broken the most perfect specimen in the world," moaned
Sir Simon; "that you must have denied yourself greatly to give me, and
to think I shall never be able to convince Mum now, or even mention it,
for she wouldn't believe one word of the story. Besides," wound up Sir
Simon, "it is so dreadfully unlucky to break china. Call me a cab, my
dear boy," implored the old gentleman, "a four-wheeler, if possible; I
really dare not go home in a taxi, I feel some other dreadful accident
would happen to me if I did."

Upon his way home Sir Simon ruminated