At the end of our artist's song he was unanimously cheered by the members of the club, and highly complimented upon his poetical skill, especially by Mr. Parnassus, who voted that he should be crowned with laurel. Mr. Oldstone eagerly seconded the proposal, but McGuilp modestly declined the honour. However, our worthy host, Jack Hearty, was sent out once more in the snow to gather laurel for the brow of the new poet laureate, in spite of our artist's modest protestations. He returned shortly afterwards with a branch of laurel, off which he first shook the snow, and then deposited upon the table. Mr. Oldstone quickly converted it into a wreath, and decreed it should be placed upon the songster's head by the fair hands of the pretty Helen. The decree was greeted with cheers, and Helen, blushing deeply and smiling, placed it on the head of the newly-discovered poet, our artist receiving it on bended knee amid the cheering of the club. McGuilp having risen from his knees, took his seat again at the table by the side of our host's pretty daughter, then rising to his feet and raising the skull aloft, he proposed the following toast in these words:-- "Gentlemen, I propose the health of the 'Wonder Club,' and that of our worthy host and his fair daughter, our guest, to be drunk by every member present solemnly and devoutly from this goblet." More cheering, during which McGuilp took a sip at the funereal chalice, and then passed it on to his neighbour, who did the same, each member in his turn sipping and nodding round to the rest. When the skull had been the round of the table, it was then passed on to our host, who hoped that the company would excuse him, but that his lips had never yet been contaminated by dead men's bones, and he hoped they never would be. Persuasions and remonstrances from the members were alike vain, for neither our host nor his daughter could be persuaded to touch the sacrilegious relic. In order not to give offence to the company, our host proclaimed his willingness to drink the toast out of a clean glass. This was at length agreed to, and the worthy man rose, and in a short bluff speech, thanked the company present for having drunk his health and that of his daughter. A clapping of hands followed our host's speech, and then Mr. Crucible, being the eldest member, returned thanks on the part of the club. At that moment the hooting of an owl was heard outside. Helen turned pale, and instinctively drew nearer to our artist. "Why, Helen my girl!" cried the doctor, "how pale you are. What are you frightened at?" "Do you not hear?" said the girl. "It is the cry of the owl; they say it is a sign of death in the house." "Come, Helen," said Hardcase, "you must not be superstitious; those things are all nonsense." "Oh, no, I can assure you----" began the girl, when Mr. Oldstone broke in.