tless when 'The Bower'
is prepared--the--ahem! the bird will fly thither."

Vociferous applause followed this impromptu trope, and for some
moments the Admiral's voice was completely drowned.

"I hope and trust," he went on, as soon as silence was restored,
"that she enjoys good health."

The stranger looked more perplexed than ever.

"But be that as it may--be that, I say, as it may, my pleasant duty
is now discharged. In the name of my fellow-Trojans and in my own
name I bid you a hearty welcome to 'The Bower.'" (Loud and
continuous cheering, during which the Admiral handed his card with a
flourish, and mopped his brow.)

"I can assure you," replied the stranger after a pause, "that I am
deeply sensible of your kindness--" (The cheering was renewed.)
"While conscious," he went on, "that I have done nothing to deserve
it. In point of fact, I think you must all be labouring under some
ridiculous delusion."

"What do you mean, sir?" gasped the Admiral. "Do you mean to say you
are not the new tenant of this delightful residence?" Then the
speaker waved his hand in the direction of "The Bower."

"Certainly I am not."

"Then, damme, sir! who are you?" cried the Admiral, whose temper was,
as we know, short.

"My name is Fogo," replied the stranger. "Here is my card--Philip
Fogo--at your service."

Even Miss Limpenny, with the first-floor window of No. 1 timidly
lifted to admit the Admiral's eloquence; even the three Misses Buzza,
arranged in a row behind the parlour blinds of No. 2, and gazing with
fond pride upon their papa; even Mrs. Buzza, nervously clasping her
hands on the upper storey;--could not but perceive that something
dreadful was happening. The Admiral's face turned from crimson to
purple; he positively choked.

The situation needed a solution. A wag among the crowd hit upon it.

"Tell th' Admiral, some of 'ee: what day es et?"

"Fust of April!" cried a voice, then another; and then--

Then the throng broke into roar upon roar of inextinguishable
laughter. The whole deluded town turned and cast its April folly, as
a garment, upon the Admiral's shoulders. It was in vain that he
stamped and raved and swore. They only held their sides and laughed
the louder.

The credit of Trojan humour was saved. With a final oath the Admiral
dashed through his front gate and into the house. The _volgus
infidum_ formed in procession again, and marched back with shouts of
merriment; the _popularis