came on to us."

Mrs. Perry received me almost with open arms.

"We must try and find you some really good partners," she announced
enthusiastically.

"_Rather!_" echoed Mr. Perry.

It was then close upon midnight. For the two hours of the dance that
remained I was the man of the evening.

* * * * *

[Illustration: WHAT LANCASHIRE THINKS.

_Old Lancashire Lady_ (_to young lady friend who has expressed her
intention of going by an excursion to the Metropolis_). "DOAN'T THEE GOA
TO LONDON; THEE STOP IN OWD ENGLAND."]

* * * * *

Rumoured Mutiny in the Navy.

"The destroyers patrolling the Irish coast are being boarded and
searched for rifles by order of the Admiralty."--_Daily Express._

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Little Maid_ (_to new owner of country cottage_) "OH, IF
YOU PLEASE, SIR, HERE'S THE CHAIRMAN OF THE LITTLE CHIPPINGHAM AND WEST
HAMBLETON STREET LIGHTING COMMITTEE." (_Confidentially_) "IT'S REALLY
ONLY MR. BINKS, THE BUTCHER."]

* * * * *

THE CALL OF THE BLOOD.

Happy the man who brushes up his topper
And sallies forth to call upon a maid,
Knowing his converse and his coat are proper,
That, come what may, he will not be afraid,
Not lose his nerve, and yawn, or tell a whopper,
Or drop the marmalade.

Not such the bard; not thus--but Clotho (drat her)
Was wakeful still, and plied a hostile loom--
I sought Miss Pritt. She mooted some grave matter
And looked for light; my lips were like the tomb,
Sealed, though they say they heard my molars chatter
Up in the smoking-room.

Cold eyes regarded me. My front-stud fretted;
A stiff slow smirk belied my deep unrest;
My tea-cup trembled and my cake was wetted;
My beauteous tie worked round toward the West;
My brow--forgive me, but it really sweated;
I did not look my best.

To Zeus, that oft would make a mist and smother
Some swain beset, and screen him from the crowd,
I prayed for vapours; but his mind was other:
Yet was I answered, though the god was proud,
For, anyhow, I trod on Miss Pritt's mother
And left beneath a cloud.

Not to return. O'er fair free hills and valleys
I can converse and carry on _ad lib._;
On active tennis-courts (between the rallies)
I can be confident, and none more glib;
But not in drawing-rooms my bright star