ee, fond of dogs."

"Fond of dogs?" replied the poet. "I? I detest them;" and so saying he
kicked the Airedale a distance of several feet into the air, so that,
falling immediately on the sun-dial, it was transfixed by the gnomon.

As he watched its struggles, thus impaled, the poet laughed the hearty
resonant laugh for which he was famous.

V.

The Civil Service clerk so famous for his drollery was entering the
office doors at half-past ten in the morning, or exactly sixty minutes
past the appointed time. By an unfortunate chance his principal met him,
as, alas! he had too often done, at the same tardy hour. "Late again,"
said the great man, consulting his watch. "I believe that you get here
later every day." "Yes," said the clerk, "I do. But then I always stay
on and work overtime."

VI.

The eminent publicist replaced his glass on the table and turned to the
lady who sat beside him. "My business," he said, "is the manufacture of
mustard. I have made a vast fortune out of it."

"How very interesting," the lady replied absently; but the next moment,
inspired by a hidden thought, she added with quickened interest, "Please
don't think me inquisitive, but how can a fortune be made out of a thing
like mustard? People take so little of it."

"Madam," answered the mustard magnate deliberately, "we do not make our
fortunes from the mustard that people eat"--

"Yes, yes?" cried the lady eagerly.--"but," he continued, "from what
they spill in mixing poultices."

VII.

The famous money-lender one evening arrived as usual at the Casino, but
this time only to bid his friends good-bye.

"Not leaving Monte?" they asked.

"Yes, I am," he replied; "I'm going to Rome."

"Rome?"

"Yes, why not? I'm told it's wonderful. I shall be there a month;" and
so saying he hurried to his hotel.

Three days later he walked into the Casino again.

"What," cried his friends--"you here? We thought you were going to be in
Rome a month."

"So I am," said the money-lender, "and more. I came back for my things,
most of which I left here, as it had occurred to me I might not like it.
But I adore it. Rome is beautiful, august, sublime. The simple severe
beauty of the Vatican, the vast solemnity of the Campagna! It is indeed
the eternal city. Let me keep Rome!"

And again he hurried away.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Excited individual_ (_who has picked up umbrella left in
bar, to despatch ride