"Dearest, you know that I have studied the law. Well, I would propose that you should carry out your contract. I have here the form which requires but the registrar's signature to make us man and wife. What do you say to the matter being settled to-morrow?" "If it must be so, it must," returned EDWIN, in a tone of resignation. "And now, as we are to be married to-morrow, let us dine together. I have an invitation from my aunt at Putney to stay with her until my goods have been seized and sold. I am off. She will extend to you her hospitality." "Oh, my betrothed, I cannot come." she sobbed. "I am kept here by duty." "Well, as you will," he replied, carelessly. "But I suppose we meet at noon at the registrar's to-morrow?" "Yes, for by that time all will be over. The goods will be removed, and I shall be free--free to become your wife." "But what have you got to do with my property?" Then came the sorrowful admission. "Oh, EDWIN, my own. You know I am in a lawyer's office. For the moment I am their guardian. Yes, darling, I am the woman in possession!" * * * * * [Illustration: DOMESTIC ECONOMY. _Cook_ (_to Vicar's Wife_). "AND WHAT'S TO BE DONE WITH THE SOLE THAT WAS SAVED YESTERDAY, MA'AM?"] * * * * * BALLADE OF LOST REPARTEES. When mirthful humours reign supreme, And heated revellers are prone To make sound wisdom kick the beam, While vain wine-bubble wit alone Has weight, we, mostly, can depone To feeling joy to blankness fade On finding, now our chance has flown, The repartee we might have made. One prating fool is apt to deem No jesting pretty save his own; Another strives, whate'er the theme, To make all comers, passive grown, "Perform the office of a hone"[*] For sharpening his witty blade;-- Too late below our breath we moan The repartee we might have made. Of course, it now contrives to seem So patent to the dullest drone; And, if we wake or if we dream, It weighs upon us like a stone, But, unlike, cannot now be thrown; And thus we languish in the shade, Because the world has never known The repartee we might have made. _Envoi._ My friends, a certain sage has shown What paving-stones below are laid; Now learn that on each blast is blown The repartee we might have made! [Footnote *: "_Fungar vice cotis_, acutum Reddere quae ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi." HORACE. _De Arte Poetica._] * * * * * THE BURDEN OF BURDON SANDERSON. ["Every organism must have sprung from a unicellular ancestor."--_Dr. Burdon Sanderson's Presidential Address to the British Association._