ttered by my appeal,
for he insisted on my immediate acceptance of a cigar six inches long,
and proposed to me a tempting list of varied drinks. The Captain read
the letter through twice carefully, and thus took up his parable:--

"Look here, my son, don't you be put off by what the little woman
says. She don't mean half of it. Get the hostess to strike!"--here he
laughed loudly--"now that's a real good 'un. Why, they haven't got it
in them. Fact is, they can't stand one another's company. She says as
much, don't she? 'We get so dull when we are all together.' Well, that
scarcely looks like goin' off on the strike together, does it? Don't
you be alarmed, old quill-driver, they'll never run a strike of that
kind for more than a day. They'll all come troopin' back, beggin' to
be forgiven, and all that, and, by gum, we shall have to take 'em back
too, just as we're all congratulatin' ourselves that we shan't have to
go to any more blessed pic-nics. That's a woman's idea of enjoyin'
herself in the country--nothin' but one round of pic-nics. I give you
my word, when I was stayin' with old FRED DERRIMAN, in Perthshire,
they reg'larly mapped out the whole place for pic-nics, and I'm dashed
if they didn't spoil our best day's drivin by pic-nickin' in, 'oh,
such a sweet place.' Truth is, they can't get along without us, my
son, only they won't admit it, bless 'em! And, after all, we're better
off when they're in the house, I'm bound to confess; so I don't mind
lettin' 'em have a pic-nic or two, just to keep 'em sweet. Them's my
sentiments, old cock, and you're welcome to them."

I thanked the Captain for his courtesy, and withdrew. But if the whole
thing is merely a matter of pic-nics, it is far simpler than I
imagined.

* * * * *

[Illustration: TOO AFFECTIONATE BY HALF.

_Auntie._ "OH, YOU NAUGHTY BOY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? SMOKING!
WHY YOU'LL NEVER GROW!"

_Artful Nephew._ "THAT'S JUST IT, AUNTIE. I DON'T WANT TO
GROW. I WANT TO KEEP THE SAME SIZE ALWAYS, SO THAT I CAN SIT
ON YOUR LAP, AN' LOVE YOU!"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: MR. PUNCH'S SKATING PARTY.]

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

"Have you read," asks one of the Baron's Assistants of his Chief,
"Miss BRADDON's Christmas Annual? It is entitled, _The Misletoe
Bough_, and contains some of the best short stories I have read
lately. One of t