Lucky for me that my flight was so precipitate. If _she_ had crossed my path at the last moment I thoroughly believe the very sight of her sweet face would have made me consent to the operation. Poor Lurline! But what is the use of giving way to sensibility, gentlemen? And, as to losing one's legs, it is bad enough to lose them in an engagement for the honour and glory of one's country, but to have them bitten off by a shark, or amputated by a mer-surgeon, at the caprice of a mer-king, and a fish's tail substituted in lieu thereof, is a thing that Toughyarn can't quite stomach. Supposing me to have been weak enough to have submitted to the operation at the tears and entreaties of Lurline, it becomes a very different matter when my limbs are exacted as a forfeiture, and imperiously demanded by an infuriated parent. Toughyarn may be as weak as a child in the hands of a pretty woman, but he won't be _forced_ to anything by the greatest tyrant that ever existed. * * * * * "Bravo, Toughyarn!" cried all the company, with one voice. This enthusiasm was as much in praise of the sentiment that the captain had wound up with as for the story itself. "I knew the captain wouldn't be beaten in a yarn by the best of us," said Hardcase, "although he did find mine rather difficult to swallow." Cheers and rattling of glasses followed, and the captain's health was drunk with due honours, after which the chairman rose and addressed the company thus: "Most honourable and august members and guests of the Wonder Club, you will all allow that the gallant captain has amply expiated his offence. There is, however, an individual present who has been guilty of the same offence as the captain, and who has not yet undergone the penance expected from him by our club." All eyes were turned towards the little comedian who blushed and laughed. "Need I point out that individual, gentlemen?" Cries of "No, no!" "Now, Jollytoast, for your turn, old boy," said the tragedian. "Hear, hear!" cried other members. "Gentlemen," continued Mr. Oldstone, "our time is short; the clock has already struck two, and I have observed more than one yawn from amongst the company. It will be my painful duty to dismiss this genial meeting, but I cannot conscientiously do so without first performing an act of justice to the company. I, therefore, sentence Mr. Jollytoast to a comic song before our meeting breaks up." (Cheers and laughter. Cries of "Hear, hear," and "Now then Jollytoast; a song, a song--Jollytoast for a song!") The little gentleman, thus addressed, begged for a moment's reflection, and then broke into a very merry ditty with a chorus, in which all had to join. There was plenty of acting and grimace in it, with here and there a part spoken, and any amount of "tooral-looral" in the chorus.