"I am pleased to hear you say so," observed His Highness; "as I was under the impression that I had rather shirked my engagements." "Not at all, Sir--not at all. If you consult your memory, you will find you carried out to-day's programme to the letter." "Had I not to lay a foundation stone, or something, this morning?" "Assuredly; and you touched a cord as you were getting up, and immediately the machinery was set in motion, and the stone was duly laid. Much better than driving miles to have to stand in a drafty marquee." "And had I not to open an exhibition?" "Why, yes. And you opened it in due course. Your equerry represented you and ground out your speech from the portable phonograph." "Well, really, that was very ingenious," remarked His Highness. "But was I not missed?" "You would have been, Sir," returned the Premier, "had we not had the forethought to send down the lantern that gives you in a thousand different attitudes. By revolving the disc rapidly the most life-like presentment was offered immediately." "Excellent! and did I do anything else?" "Why your Highness has been hard at work all day attending reviews, opening canals, and even presiding at public dinners. Thanks to science we can reproduce your person, your speech, your very presence at a moment's notice." "Exceedingly clever!" exclaimed His Highness. "Ah, how much better is the twentieth century than its predecessor!" And no doubt the sentiment of His Highness will be approved by posterity. * * * * * [Illustration: HOLIDAY CHARACTER SKETCHES. LITTLE BINKS LOVES CLARA PURKISS, WHO LOVES BIG STANLEY JONES, WHO LOVES HIMSELF AND NOBODY ELSE IN THE WORLD! WHICH IS THE MOST TO BE PITIED OF THE THREE?] * * * * * COUNTING THE CATCH. _A Waltonian Fragment._ _First Piscator_, R-S-B-RY. _Second Piscator_, H-RC-RT. _First Piscator._ Oh me, look you, master, a fish, a fish! [_Loses it._ _Second Piscator._ Aye, marry, Sir, that was a good fish; if I had had the luck to handle that rod, 'tis twenty to one he should not have broken my line as you suffered him; I would have held him, as you will learn to do hereafter; for I tell you, scholer, fishing is an art, or at least it is an art to catch fish. Verily that is the second brave Salmon you have lost in that pool! _First Piscator._ Oh me, he has broke all; there's half a line and a good flie lost. I have no fortune, and that Peers' Pool is fatal fishing. _Second Piscator._ Marry, brother, so it seemes--to you at least! Wel, wel, 'tis as small use crying over lost fish as spilt milk; the sunne hath sunk, the daye draweth anigh its ende; let us up tackle, and away! _First Piscator._ Look also how it begins to rain, and by the clouds (if I mistake not) we shal presently have a smoaking showre. Truly it has been a long, rough day, and but poorish sport.