October to December.—Soldiers on leave. Sailors at sea. Civil Servants reading the morning paper.
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[Illustration: FOLLIES OF THE YEAR.]
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IN THE LATEST STYLE.
(BY OUR INTREPID INTERVIEWER.)
Feeling that your readers would be interested in learning Mr. CHOSE’s own view of the unpleasant affair, I called upon the distinguished Arctic Explorer just as he was sitting down to breakfast.
“Now, Mr. CHOSE, is it really true,” I asked, “that you stole the umbrellas?”
The face of the warrior flushed angrily, for a moment, and then regaining his composure, he replied that he could not see the point of possessing himself of articles that would be absolutely valueless in those extremely northern latitudes.
“That is not the question,” I persisted. “I am sure you will forgive me, when you remember that I speak in the name of the Public; but what I want, and what they want to know is, Did you steal the umbrellas? Now, Mr. CHOSE, you can surely answer Yes or No.”
“I don’t see what either you or they have to do with it,” replied the Arctic Explorer, cutting off the top of a boiled egg, “but as a matter of fact, I had nothing whatever to do with any of the luggage of the expedition. So, if it is said, that I walked about with a shower-protector that was not my own, you can value the story for what it is worth. Why, on the very face of it, the report is ridiculous!”
“Exactly,” I agreed, “but, then, the world is uncharitable. However, Mr. CHOSE, perhaps you can tell me if it is true that your friend and colleague, Mr. BLANK, converted an aged Esquimaux into what he termed Iced Greenlander?”
’I have heard the story, certainly; but cannot say whether it is true or not. When the incident is alleged to have happened, I was in another part of the country, having been sent there to change novels at the local circulating library.”
“But would you say it was probable?”
“Distinctly not. BLANK was a noble-hearted, chivalrous, merry, gladsome, gallant young fellow. He was the soul of honour. Why,” he added, with deep emotion, “I have left as much as fourpence in coppers on a mantel-piece alone with him, and on my return nave found every halfpenny of the money untouched!”
“Then do you not think he pushed the old man into the sausage-machine?”
“If he did, it must have been either accidentally, or to win a wager, or perhaps as practical joke. That he would do anything open to censure at the hands of the severest moralist, is absolutely incredible. Why, he is a Loamshire man!”
“So I have heard; and, now, Mr. CHOSE, as I see that you have finished your breakfast, I will put to you a purely personal question. Is it true that you poisoned your grandmother, drowned your uncle, stifled your niece, and hanged your brother-in-law?”


