"Oh, no, it wasn't quarrellin', 'm--just bargin', you know. Any'ow it ended in Polly an' Mary an' my brother goin' off early. I was chilly to Mrs. Spurge owin' to 'er 'avin' said that she didn't believe my sailor-brother 'd ever been further than Wapping in a coal-barge. I shouldn't 'ave spoke to 'er again that evenin' if the book 'adn't brought us together again friendly, like." "What book?" I asked, bewildered. "One of yours that I got out of the study, 'm. Oh, _wot_ a book! Sorter ghost story in a manner o' speakin'. I laughed an' I cried over it, turn about. So did Mrs. Spurge. You see we read bits out to each other--kep it up till three o'clock in the mornin', we did. It was luverly!" "And what was the book called?" I inquired. "It's called _A Christmas Car'l_, 'm, by Mr. DICKINGS. Why didn't nobody tell me about it afore? It's far better 'n the pictures. 'Just like 'eaven,' Mrs. Spurge said." "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, Elizabeth." "It's the 'appiest Christmas I ever 'ad, 'm. That there Mr. Dickings is a one! 'E do know wot's wot in festlebords." * * * * * [Illustration: _Patient._ "MY MISSIS SENT ME FUR A BOTTLE O' MEDICINE FUR ME CORF. SHE SAYS IT KEEPS HER AWAKE O' NIGHTS. I SAYS, 'YOU'VE NOBBUT TO LIE AWAKE. I'VE GOT TO LIE AWAKE AN' CORF.'"] * * * * * HOW, WHY AND WHAT. _(Being the Tragedy of the Conscientious Inquirer who fell among Philistines.)_ There was an old man who said, "How Can I link the To-Be with the Now?" But they said, "Poor old thing! You've been reading Dean INGE, And you're _not_ high enough in the brow." But in spite of this check he said, "Why Is my Ego the same as my I?" So they put him to bed And placed ice on his head till the cerebral storm had passed by. Now I'm told he is asking them, "What Use has psycho-analysis got?" And they answer, "N.E. If you're not an M.D., Or a novelist minus a plot." * * * * * "A cargo of 800 German pianos arrived at the Tyne from Hamburg on Saturday." _Daily Paper._ Another key industry in danger. * * * * * [Illustration: UNFINISHED DRAWING FOR "PUNCH" BY THE LATE F. H. TOWNSEND. THE FIGURE OF THE LITTLE GIRL WAS SKETCHED ON THE MORNING OF HIS DEATH. THE LEGEND WHICH THIS PICTURE WAS TO ILLUSTRATE IS NOT KNOWN.] * * * * * MAYBIRDS. I can see some justification for keeping peacocks, especially if you have shaven lawns and terraces and sundials, though sundials, I imagine, are rather a nuisance now-a-days, because of the trouble of having them reset for summer and winter time. Peacocks at any rate are beautiful, and, if their voices are apt in England to become a little hoarse, that is only because they screech when the weather is going to be bad.