The song being ended, our comic friend was much applauded, and the chairman, in a short speech, expressed himself satisfied with the expiation, and, wishing all the company a "good night," and many more such genial meetings, was about to retire, when Captain Toughyarn called out, "Avast! there, chairman. You are never going to dismiss the crew without splicing the main brace first!" "True, true, captain," said the president; "besides the health of our sublime warbler, Mr. Jollytoast, has not been drunk yet. Fill your glasses, gentlemen, and drink to the health of Mr. Jollytoast." Shouts and yells ensued, during which our comic guest's health was drunk with three times three, to which he responded in a short and laughable speech that called forth more cheering. "And now, gentlemen," said the chairman, "after having spent the tenth anniversary of our club in the company of mermaids, sea monsters, ghouls, spirits, and phantom fleas, how can we do better than wind up this honourable meeting by joining hands and singing that song composed by one of our members--now, alas! no more--to be sung at the inauguration of the Wonder Club?" The proposal was received with applause, and all the company joining hands, our host included, sung the following ditty:-- SONG OF THE WONDER CLUB. As we join hand in hand Let us sing to our band, And lift up our voice in a ditty; May memories well stored E'er enliven our board With the wondrous, the weird, and the witty. Let each thirsty soul Round the merry punch bowl Drink deep to our brotherhood's founding, And loud be the cheers That resound in the ears Of the member with tale most astounding. Round the merry Yule flame May our band of the same Meet year after year in their niches, And list as of yore To our tales by the score Of phantoms, wraiths, goblins, and witches. Then our song's jocund sound, When our nectar flows round, Sure Olympus was never so merry. Right jovial our crew, Whate'er be the brew, Whether brandy, port, whisky or sherry. Now whate'er befall, Here's a "good-night" to all, May Queen Mab with her train cheer our slumber; And with one last toast, Let us drown every ghost, Or goblin, or ghoul, in a bumper. The song at an end, a last bumper was drunk by way of a nightcap, and each gallant member or guest walked, or staggered, as the case might be, off to bed. "Ho, steward!" cried the captain, to the landlord; "douse the glims, and show the passengers to their cabins. Where have you slung my hammock?" Our host provided candles for each of his guests, and bidding them all "good-night," gave a yawn, and followed the example of the rest. CHAPTER V. THE HEADLESS LADY.--THE ARTIST'S FIRST STORY.