AFTER THE THIRD SYLLABLE.

Mr. Pushington.  Muddled?  Of course it was muddled—­you all called me a liar before I opened my mouth!

The Rest.—­But you didn’t seem to know how to begin, and we had to bring the Word in somehow.

Pushington.  Bring it in?—­but you needn’t have let it out.  There was SETTEE there, shouting “liar” till he was black in the face.  We must have looked a set of idiots from the front.  I shan’t go in again (muttering).  It’s no use acting Charades with people who don’t understand it.  There; settle the Word yourselves!

AFTER THE WORD.  AMONG THE AUDIENCE.

General Murmur.  What can it be?  Not Turk, I suppose, or Magician?—­Quarrelling?—­Parnellite?—­Impertinence?  Shall we give it up?  No, they like us to guess, poor things; and besides, if we don’t, they’ll do another; and it is getting so late, and such a long drive home.  Oh, they’re all coming back; then it is over.  No, indeed, we can’t imagine.  “Familiar!” To be sure—­how clever, and how well you all acted it, to be sure—­you must be quite tired after it all.  I am sure we—­hem—­are deeply indebted to you ...  My dear Miss ROSE, how wonderfully you disguised yourself.  I never recognised you a bit, nor you, Mr. NIGHTINGALE.  What part did you take?

Mr. Nightingale.  I—­er—­didn’t take any particular part—­wasn’t wanted, you know.

Miss Rose.  Not to act,—­so we stayed outside and—­and—­arranged things.

An Old Lady.  Indeed?  Then you had all the hard work, and none of the pleasure, my dear, I’m afraid.

Miss Rose (sweetly).  Oh no.  I mean yes!—­but we didn’t mind it much.

The O.L. And which of you settled what the Word was to be?

Mr. N. Well, I believe we settled that together.

[Carriages are announced; departure of guests who are not of the house-party.  In the Smoking-room, Mr. PUSHINGTON discovers that he does not seem exactly popular with the other men, and puts it down to jealousy.

* * * * *

ROBERT’S XMAS BANKWET.

We held our annywal Crismus Bankwet larst Satterday.  Our principel Toast of course was, “Success to the Grand Old Copperashun, and may it flurrish for ewer!” with 3 times 3, and one cheer more for the bewtifool LADY MARESS, and may she flurrish for ewer too!  Ah, we Waiters is a gallarnt race and knows our dooty to the fairer and weaker sects quite as well as ewen Aldermen theirselves.  I next perposed the City Livvery Compnys, in a speech, as BROWN said, as ort for to be printed and sircculated.  I had serttenly given a good deal of atention to it, and praps shood have dun ewen better if I hadn’t quite forgot ewery word of the werry last part, which,