on't know the Dutch
alphabet."

"That doesn't matter," said Mabel, "you can guess it just as well
without."

"Indeed I can't, and besides I don't know the names of all the English
ladies of rank."

"That doesn't matter either," said Sinclair, smiling; "it spells a title,
not a name; and one you know very well."

"I can't guess it, anyway," said Patty, after a few moment's thought. "I
give it up; tell me."

"Why, Dutch S," said Bob, and Patty agreed that it was a good catch.

"Now, I'll catch you," said Patty. "You all know your London pretty well,
I suppose, and are familiar with the places of interest. Well, Mabel, why
is your nose like St. Paul's?"

Mabel thought hard, and so did the boys.

"Is my nose like St. Paul's, too?" asked Bob, thoughtfully, stroking his
well-shaped feature.

Patty looked at it critically. "Yes," she said, "and so is Sinclair's.
But why?"

At last they gave it up, and Patty said, triumphantly, "Because it is
made of flesh and blood."

They all screamed with laughter, for they quickly saw the point, and
realised that it was the historic character referred to, and not the
cathedral.

"Here's one," said Sinclair: "Where did the Prince of Wales go on his
eleventh birthday?" But Patty was quite quick enough for this. "Into his
twelfth year," she answered promptly. "And now listen to this: A man
walking out at night, met a beggar asking alms. The man gave him ten
cents. He met another beggar and gave him fifteen cents. What time was
it?"

"Time for him to go home," declared Bob, but Patty said that was not the
right answer.

"Springtime," guessed Mabel, "because the man was in such a good humor."

"No," said Patty, "it was quarter to two."

Her hearers looked utterly blank at this, and, suddenly realising that
they were not very familiar with American coins, Patty explained the
joke. They saw it, of course, but seemed to think it not very good, and
Sinclair whimsically insisted on calling it, "a shilling to Bob," which
he said was equally nonsensical.

"Give us one of your poetry ones, Grandy," said Bob to Mrs. Cromarty, who
sat by, quietly enjoying the young people's fun.

"Miss Fairfield may not care for the old-fashioned enigma, but I will
offer this one," and in her fine, clear voice the old lady recited her
verse with elocutionary effect:

"Afloat upon the ocean
My graceful form you see;

The protector of the