This YOUBYOUB, I ought to say, was the young and bloodthirsty Prince of the Lozen Jehs, a tribe of wild warriors from the north. Betrothed to the beautiful CHUDDAH at an early age, he naturally viewed with hatred the advent of one on whom nature had bestowed her favours so bountifully, and who was bound, therefore, to make himself dear to CHUDDAH. I knew he detested me, but I had hitherto scorned him. I was now to discover my mistake. Scarcely had the words left the Ayah's lips when a loud rumbling made itself heard: the floor seemed to heave in one terrific crash, there was a horrible explosion, and before I had time to realise what had happened we three, CHUDDAH, the Ayah and I, were being propelled upwards into space at the rate of at least a thousand miles an hour. (_To be continued._) * * * * * [Illustration: "_ARE_ YOU COMIN' 'OME?" "I'LL DO ELLYTHIK YOU _LIKE_ IN REASOL, M'RIA--(_hic_)--BUR I _WON'T_ COME 'OME."] * * * * * TOYS' TALK. (_Being an unflattering Tale of Hope._) "There's ingratitude for you," said the Rag Doll marked "three-and-six." "Where?" I asked, rousing myself from my meditation on my tambourine and drumsticks. She pointed to a figure which had just been placed in the second row. He was dressed very smartly in a red coat trimmed with tinsel. But he had an unmistakeable air of second-hand. "I made that man," said the Rag Doll, "and now he cuts me dead before them all! It's atrocious! Why, but for me he would have been bought for five shillings, and would have been the property of the plainest child in London." "Not that," I pleaded; "think of----" "Well, very plain, anyhow. I was ready to bow to him. I almost did." "In fact, you did." "I didn't. I declare I didn't." "Oh, well, you didn't, then. It only looked like it." "He first came here," said the Rag Doll, "three weeks ago. At that time he was--quite presentable. He was everything he should be. He stood firmly on his legs without toppling over, and had his cocked hat firmly fixed on his head. And his sword----" "Where did he wear that?" "He _carried_ that, Mr. WHYTE RABBIT. Don't be silly. Wore it by his side, you know, and had epaulettes, too." "He has changed outwardly at least." "Yes, I know; well, I did that. I took him in hand, and I just taught him, and now----!" "Yes, I know. But how did you teach him?" "I fell upon him. I knocked him from his perch, and in the fall broke his wretched sword with my own weight!" "What very arbitrary distinctions you draw!" "I don't know what you mean. I do like a plaything to be smart, anyhow. Don't you, Mr. WHYTE RABBIT? You don't play your tambourine properly. Now I shall take you in hand." And she slipped toward me. "I prefer to use my own drumsticks. I can make enough noise in the world without extraneous assistance."