I try again to explain that by my computation the Queen of Diamonds had been played a long time ago. My partner won't listen to reason. He replies, "You might have seen that it wasn't." I return, "Well, it couldn't be helped; we'll win the game yet." This I add to encourage him, though, if it depends on me, I honestly (to myself) don't think we shall.

Happy Thought. After all, we do get the odd trick. Stenton ought to be in a better humour, but he isn't; he says, "The odd! we ought to have been three." Englefield asks me how honours are. I don't know. Stenton says, “Why, you (meaning me) had two in your own hand." "Oh, yes, I had." I'd forgotten it. "Honours easy," says Stenton to me. I agree with him. Now, I've got to score with this confounded shilling, sixpence, half-crown, and a candlestick.

Happy Thought. Ask Bob Englefield how he scores generally.

He replies, "Oh, the usual way," and as he doesn't illustrate his meaning, his reply is of no use to me whatever. How can I find out without showing them that I don't know? Happy Thought (while CHILDERS deals). Pretend to forget to score till next time. Englefield will perhaps, next time, then watch Englefield. arranging my cards from right to left

have to do it, Just as I am

Happy Thought. To alternate the colours black and red, beginning this time with black (right) as spades are trumps. Also to arrange them in their rank and order of precedence. Ace on the right if I've got one-yes; king next, queen next -and the hand begins to look very pretty. I can quite imagine whist being a fascinating game- Stenton reminds me that I've forgotten to mark “one up.”

Happy Thought. Put sixpence by itself on my left hand. Stenton asks what's that for?

Happy Thought. To say it's the way I always mark.

Stenton says, "Oh, go on." I look round to see what we're waiting for, and Englefield answers me, "Go on, it's you; you're first hand." I beg their pardon. I must play some card or other, and finish arranging my hand during the round. Anything will do to begin with. Here's a two of spades, a little one, on my left hand; throw him out.

"Hallo!" cries Englefield (second hand), "trumps are coming out early." I quite forgot spades were trumps; that comes of that horrid little card being on the left instead of the right.

Happy Thought. Not to show my mistake: nod at Englefield, and intimate that "he'll see what's coming."

So, by the way, will my partner. In a polite moment I accept another cup of tea. I don't want it, and have to put it by the half-crown, shilling, and candlestick on the whisttable, where I'm afraid of knocking it over, and am obliged to let it get quite cold, as I have to attend to the game.

Happening to be taking a spoonful, with my eyes anxiously on the cards, when my turn comes, Stenton says, “Do play; never mind your tea." Whist brutalises Stenton: what a pity!

Happy Thought. Send this game as a problem to a sporting paper.

Happy Thought. Why not write generally for sporting papers?

Stenton says, "Do play!" I do.

Happy Thought. Write a treatise on whist, so as to teach myself the game.-" Happy Thoughts."

SIR JOSEPH PORTER, his COUSIN HEBE, his OTHER FEMALE RELATIVES, CAPTAIN CORCORAN of the "PINAFORE," ABLE SEAMAN RALPH RACKSTRAW, BOATSWAIN, SAIL

ORS.

Hebe.

Rel.

Sir Joseph.

Hebe.

'All.

Sir Joseph.

SONG SIR JOSEPH.

I am the monarch of the sea,

The ruler of the Queen's navee,

Whose praise Great Britain loudly chantsAnd we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

And we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

When at anchor here I ride

My bosom swells with pride,

And I snap my fingers at a foeman's tauntsAnd so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

But when the breezes blow

I generally go below,

And seek the seclusion that a cabin grants!

Hebe.

All.

And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

His sisters and his cousins,

Whom he reckons up by dozens,

And his aunts!

SONG SIR JOSEPH.

When I was a lad I served a term

As office boy to an attorney's firm.

I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor,
And I polished up the handle of the big front door.
I polished up that handle so carefullee

That now I am the ruler of the Queen's navee!

CHORUS.

He polished, etc.

'As office boy I made such a mark

That they gave me the post of a junior clerk.

I served the writs with a smile so bland,

And I copied all the letters in a big round hand—
I copied all the letters in a hand so free

That now I am the ruler of the Queen's navee!

CHORUS.

He copied, etc.

In serving writs I made such a name
That an articled clerk I soon became;

I wore clean collars and a brand new suit
For the pass examination at the Institute.

And that pass examination did so well for me
That now I am the ruler of the Queen's navee!

CHORUS.

And that pass examination, etc.

Of legal knowledge I acquired such a grip
That they took me into the partnership;
And that junior partnership, I ween,
Was the only ship that I ever had seen.
But that kind of ship so suited me

That now I am the ruler of the Queen's navee!

CHORUS.

But that kind, etc.

I grew so rich that I was sent
By a pocket borough into Parliament.

I always voted at my party's call,

And I never thought of thinking for myself at all.

I thought so little, they rewarded me

By making me the ruler of the Queen's navee!

CHORUS.

He thought so little, etc.