A moment, and the silent guests Sat pallid as their dinner vests. A moment more, and root and branch, That mansion fell in avalanche, Story on story, floor on floor, Roof, wall and window, joist and door, Dead weight of damnable disaster, A cataclysm of lath and plaster. _Siloam did not choose a sinner-- All were not builders at the dinner._ [Illustration: LORD NELSON AND HIS TAR.] [Illustration] [Illustration: (_Facsimile of Letter addressed by R. L. Stevenson, in his Tenth Year, to his Aunt Miss Balfour._)] PRINTED BY CASSELL & CO., LIMITED, LA BELLE SAUVAGE, LONDON, E.C. * * * * * Transcriber's note: The following typographical errors were corrected: Page 159: "The hunting still goes on, and at any moment", 'moment' amended from 'monent'. Footnote 46: "Jour. Scot. Met. Soc., New Ser. xxvi." 'Scot.' amended from 'Sbot.'