The Welsh Coast Pioneer and Review for North Cambria

II.—AN INTERVIEW WITH SHAKE- SPEARE. Fleet-street, I think? iys. Yon seem to have a bad cold? I fear me that my voice is somewhat F,-Pul- a"u' ^an ^*ou to the Mermaid? An, Shakespeare, I think? On wondrous intuition! But such is fame! And you. m, tOiain? A lady-intorvk-w<?r. Ha! one of the weird sisters? But tell me, you are not—cr—you are not—not—Miss— ywhifpers) No. Tis well! I dg not now revisit the glimpses of the moon at Stratford, being like EoineV- though. for a dlffcrent reason—a fearful l11au- Say no more. I u.stand. ln,eS -d penance for contemning writers? there StiiI Elany lad^" More than ever. Tffrr!^9' IS'* can reafl a woman? Z 18 °nly onG lady-w»iter, only ona ^ration.0 60019613 my Sratitude ad- Ah, let me put that down. And her name? never Cowden Clarke. I could note of^ll%012a-I!i,n IlfetlEe take such death R ♦ *Sn S haS dtme sinc9 my thtl ^dl me~G-E-S. And G.K.C., do they still gird at the world? them67 d° May 1 pUt dowa your °Pinion of Marry, they will say 'tis envy, but it loometh to me that their words are a fantas- tical tar-iuet-jusl so many strange dishes. Thank you so much Two excellent head- lines. You keep up your knowledge of this world? Ay, You know what was said me me— It Not for an age, but. for all time." But this comes too near the praising of myself. *s expccted in an interview. "Headlines" and "inter- lews. Wtsll, one-may see how the world IZh 7 ? £ 7rS- 'Tis oaly at this season in r\l Jear that 1 revisit it. This is the season for ghcsts — pardon me, 'tis otherwise, aa 70j wouiJ know had you read a trifling, fool.su play of mine called "Hamlet." It io at „uis ^ason that ghosts refrain from visit- ing mo oarih, and tiS for that cause I select Trao, you are not in the run of common fc.e:«." Marry, well quoted. But you would have said that I am not in the walk of common ghosts. I take pd* outrage of their Christmas holiday* to do my walking now. There he few of tfiem that have not a grudge against pfe jpe, since it so happened that by fortune I caught the strange manners of after-times as well as my own. But I would fain know eormorant Time hath teen doing ail'3 ievofix* i' ipg these past twelve months? We have had a general election. Faith, and I suppose there has been much to do on both sides, for the nation ever held it no sin to tarre them on to controversy. Yes. May I have the privilege of recording your views on the fiscal question? Nay, madam, I protest, but you will excuse me. My business in this state—I mean in this disembodied state-makes me a looker-on, here in Vienna. Not Vienna—London. Maybe you are in the right. 'Twas Vienna in the folio, and in the quartos. But I am aware of the great improvements introduced by modern editors. But just one word on the fiscal question? The fiscal question? Marry, you press me hard, madam. Just one sentence Write, then, that I had naught to say of it, save that 'tis a matter of Custom. You are enigmatic. 'Twill serve. Thus do I moralise two mean- ings in one word. By the way, we have a new word now- suffragettes. Suffrpgplti-s 'Tig an ill phrnse, a vile phrase. But what be they when they be at their homes? Thev are not there as a rule. They are women who claim votes. Ah suffrage is the badge of all their tribe. When women shall vote, what r. new-added fragrance shall appertain to that form of prords, Your voices your sweet voices your most sw et voices Thank you. I have that down. It may interest you to know that the suffragettes have even waved flags and demonstrated in the Ladies' Gallery of the House of Com- mons, whence they hove been fcrcibly re- moved, loudly protesting. Ha marry have they ? Well, 'twas Petru- chio's way of taming, and there is no other. Yet methinks gentleness in women would win more than sound and fury. Removed by force," say you? Did I not once say that A woman moved becomes bereft of beauty "? Suffragettes do not make professions to beauty. Yet, might I so express it, they might claim to have Helen's check without her art. I do not quite understand you, sir. Let us change the subject. Now upon the Education Bill- Ah, whither wilt thou lead me? Peace, I'll go no further. I must insist upon just one word on the education question. Nay, madam, that way madness lies. Yet have I an overweening admiration for your Parliament. For our House of Commons? Ay, ay, your House of Commons, where they are all, all honourable men. And what of the House of Lords? Oh, their offence is rank But something too much of this. Methinks I scent the morn- ing air. Brief let it be What have you new this year ÏJ1 London? Electrobuses. Grarnmerey Another vile phrase. Whero be your laws that they do not lay by the heels the miscreant coiners of such base words? Electrobuses Psha Yet I know them. They are not new to me. Not new? No, I foresaw these modern instances, when I wrote that the spirit of the time should teach you speed. But electrobus 0 misbegotten word Thank Heaven I could not foresee that! Electrobus," forsooth! To think that it was of thee I wrote, Thou mortal engine filled with lightning force, like captive bound to a triumphal car!" But h;st Was that the cock crowing, or the machines of Printing House-square starting? I must hence. a But I have so many things on which to question you-the Spanish 11 wedding, the German Emperor's very latest? Aha, Don Kaiser I love him. He speaks plain cannon, fire-and bounce He reminds me of my own favourite, my Pistol with his "swashing and martial outside." Oh, and about Russia and the Czar? My forcible Feeble. But my time is come. Fare thee well at once. Mistress Clarke will help you through on all other matters. Fare- well He's gone. How annoying Just as I was going to ask him for his autograph. And even now I believe that he has only gone to the Mermaid. If only I knew where it was

III.—REASONS AND PRETEXTS. Hullo, Briggs A Merry Christmas. Same to you, Ferguson, though you look as dismal as the wretched bachelor you are. Most envious married man You have flung that taunt at me before. But I suppose we ought to be serious in wishing each other to be merry. I don't know; you began it. What I mean is, how can we both be quite serious and quite merry at the time? Well, you can be serious and I'll be the other thing. People are generally most amusing when they are most serious. It would be very easy to prove that laughter is an immoral thing. Well, if you come to that, Ferguson, it would be very easy to prove that existence is an immoral thing. Non-existence is certainly more harmless. Now look here, Ferguson, I've tried both. Existence has its advantages. Well, I'm not so sure. ^You're getting out of your depth, Fergu- son. Are you going to the Marsttfns' New Year's dance? Not if I knovv it. How's that? • Well, I'm not invited. Ah there's generally a reason. There's always a reason, Briggs, and there's generally a pretext. What dees that mean? Well, it means that in this case there is a reason and that no pretext is wanted. But if I were invited I shouldn't go The reason being- That I don't want to. The pretext would be a desperately important previous engage- ment. Well, I'm sorry, because I happen to know that you're goin, to have a card. And I happen to know that my dearest and oldest friend- which is myself- has invited me to give him the pleasure of my company that evening, and I'm going to. Surely you're not g(,iug, are you? We are. Why not? Well, I thought old married people never wanted to go to dances. Well, as you said just now, there's always a reason. And generally a pretext. Yes. Upon my soul, I believe you're right in this case, for once. The reason we're going is that we want to enjoy ourselves. And" the pretext Is that we're going in order to ta&e Dolly Blacker. What? Is she staying with you again? Yes; and that reminds me that I don't be- lieve we' "'B seen a sign of you since she was wi; us IRst. She's the girl who sang so well, isn't she? She's the girl you sent a disgracefully sentimental song to, Ferguson. I sent her a song? Who told you such, nonsense? No one. I guessed. I don't believe it, Briggs. Well, you're quite right.. I didn't. But my wife did. Ah that's a very different thine;. Why, half the absurd stories in the worTd are ths result of woman's had habit of guessing. That doesn't prove that I'm wrong. And now I remember the evidence is rather strong, for the song was in manuscript, and, Ilin told it's your writing. Rubbish, Briggs! Well, I don't say it wasn't. It was fright- fully sentimental. Something about "AliJ think when I am far away-, Of what your eyes told, That I am d'lll and getting grey -ho,ng it! I can't remember the last line. Look here, Briggs, I'm not angry, but you've got the words all wrong-you know you have. Oh, Ferguson Well, it is a funny thing I can't remember them, for I've heard her sing them often enough since she's been with us. Really, Briggs? What a chap you arc. You're always joking. My dear fellow, I'm not joking. But look here, you shan't be bothered with that card of the Marstons'. I believe it was some silly suggestion of my wife's, and she'll put it aJI right. I don't like to hear a married man talk cf his wife in that way, Briggs. Well, you weren't very respectful about her just now. No; but I'm not a married man, am I? Be- sides, I've always said your wife was a really good sort, and one of the very best that ever breathed. So she is, Ferguson. And she'll put it all j right about the invitation not going. She'll explain that sho found out that you were going somewhere else. Now look here, Briggs, I may be a fool- Yes, some day, perhaps. We know what we are, but we know not what we may be. Don't be an ass. I say I may be a fool, but I'm not a confounded bearish beafzt, am I? Well, I wouldn't say "confounded"; you seem a little confused at the present moment. What I mean is, you thundering du' r- head, that if yo\r wife has been so jolly d as to take air that trouble about -io Marstons' dance, and getting me a card for it. I'm not going to be such an ill-mannered idiot as not to go. Oh, but she won't want you to go if you But I tell you I am going. I know what's right and correct. A married man never does. When he marries he loses all his manners—endows his wife with them, I be- lieve. Besides, I rather like dances. Well, of course, that's a reason, and, as you said, there's always a reason Oh, hang what I said And generally a pretext, eh? Oh, Ferguson, Ferguson Don't be a fool, Briggs. And about that song, don't you see, when I had written it I wanted to get it sung by someone who could really sing. That was only natural. No harm in that, I think? Not a bit. Most harmless. Sba sings it well, too, Ferguson. But, Briggs. old boy, you got the words wrong, you know-quite wrong. It's— Oh, think when I am faraway, Of v.haf my evps bfvc tr,Jrl ynu, That all the world is dull and grey, Except when they behold you. Most harmless. Oh, Ferguson, Ferguson. Well, we'll see you there. Good-bye.

AFTER DINNER STORIES. The young subaltern of the Guards had brought his little army by Underground to mount guard at the Bank. The eyes oi' the poe&eiLj-by' were upon him, and he gave many peremptory words of command to hi-, men out- side the station, and comported himself as a martinet of twenty years of ago generally daüi. The effect wal3. all spoilt by a ragged cab tout, who addressed him thus: "'Urry up, governor, 'urry up! I've got my little bit in the bank there, and I want it i-afely guarded." Visiting the churchyard where her thice hus- bands were buried, the triple widow noticed that the graves were in a bad state of repair, so wishing to treat each equally, as she boasted she had done 111 their life-timeis, she told the caretaker to renovate the headstones and generally make the graves look reepecta.bie. The following is a copy of the bill sent in:— £ s. d. To renovating three headstones 2 7 6 turning over the old sods 0 12 6 3 0 0 Having elected to walk home from the Savoy he decided upon the Embankment as his best route. He steered round the railings which enclobe the gardens, and then collided against a tree. He fell backwards a step, then returned to the effort. and met the tree again. • This time he sat down upon the pavement, put both hands to his head, and cried, "Loet! Lost! Lost in an impenetrable forest." A "And is she a real, live lady, da.d?" queried the little Holloway lassie, as she and pa filed out of the "first house." "Yes, real, live-just like mummy!" answered the worthy man; and then, as if anxious to change the subject, he said, "But we must hurry home, or mummy will be cross." "But," persisted the juvenile inquirer after truth, "she can't really be just like mummy. Mummy never stands all that time without talk- ing, does she?" And the expression on poor pa's dial plainly intimated that she never does. No giant gooseberrynext year! We read that "owing to the appearance of a destructive fungus next year's gooseberry crop is threatened." So in the silly season the post- box will teem with authentic and authenticated lies about the sea serpent, inquiries as to the age of Marie Lloyd, and voluminous correspond- ence on such engrossing subjects as "Should women smoke in non-smoking carnages?" "Is the horse-box the proper place for babies tra- velling?" But we shall miss the giant goose- berry. "Who w&s Ananias?" asked the Bible-class teacher of the sin&.ti boy. "Please, miss, farver thinks 'e muct 'ave been one of them 'ere racing tipsters." 0 It was before the Police Commksion, and the examining counsel said to a witness: "The evidence shows tha.t you threw a stone at the constable." "It shows more than that, sir; it shows that Oi 'it 'im," replied the man with pride. She was a rustic young daughter of WTales, and had started her business career in the vaults of a hotel in a small fort of lier country. One day, whilst relieving the lady in the hotel bar, she was a&kcd by a customer for a. Never having heard of the liqueur, but not wish- ing to let anyone into the secret, she made a good show of looking for what was in request, then turning, she t-aid with assumed regret;- "Indeed, sir, it's sorry I am, but we are clean out of what you just said, but will you have 'Angostura.?' Mr X. was certain that "Old Jimmy" did a good deal of poaching on his estate. More- over, he was just as certain that his staff of gamekeepers were no match for the wily old man. What, then, was to be done in the matter? After much careful thought, Mr X. hit on a really brilliant idea. He would buy his dog and put it out of tlie way. "That's a sharp-looking dog you have there, Jimmy," he remarked casually one day. "Fvo taken a 6udden fancy to him! Five pounds would buy him, I suppose' "No, sir!" "Ten?" "No, sir!" "Twenty!" (desperately). "No, sir!" "Good gracious!" gasped tho squire. "And yet you appear to be on the verge of starva- tion! You can't afford to keep a dog." "I can't, sir!" "Then, why do you?" "I don't, sir. The boot's on the other leg. 'E "keeps me!" And with a. cheerful smile the old reprobate parsed on. "I don't think I ever seen such an im- pressive sight before," said the hardy mariner in an awestruck voice describing a fire at sea to a certain country paper's reporter. Con- sidering that amongst the ill-fated vessel's cargo was a mere trifle of three hundred tons of whiskey, the sea dog's emotion may be easily understood and widely shared. Jones left home in a state of anxiety, for his wife was as ladies wish to be who love their lords. He hurried back from the office and was met in the hall by the nurse, who astounded him by announcing the arrival of triplets. Greatly agitated at such an avalanche of family, ho dashed off to the telegraph offioc to acquaint his mother-in-law as he had pro- mised. This is the telegram which the astonished lady received:— "Triplets arrived all well-more to follow."

CHRISTMAS AT SLOWBY JUNCTION. By TOM GALLON, Author of "Tatterley," "Dicky Monteith," "Kiddy," "A Rogue in Love," "The King- dom of Hate," "The Charity Ghost," &c. Nothing ever happens at Slowby Junction —at least, notJJjig very much. Perhaps it would be better to say that nothing ever hap- pened before the events about to be related in this history; and I am perfectly certain that nothing has nappened since. Trains dawdle into Slowby Junction, and wait there until someone suggests to the engine-driver that it might bo better to go oil, or until the station-master finishes his tea, or whatever other meal may be in progress, and comes out and blows a whistle. It is the safest station in the United Kingdom; what- ever points or switches or signals you moved would not, in all probability, interfere with the careful working of the railway. Besides the stationmaster there is one elderly porter, who is also signalman, and several other things as well; and he has been at Slowby Junction as long as the oldest inhabitant can remember. He lives all alone. You are to take particular note of him, because in this curious history he plays an important part. Even now he wakes at night at the recol- lection of it. and chuckles to himself. On the afternoon of one particular Christ- mas Day, not so very many years ago, a man stamped up and down the platform of a great railway station in London, in a vain endea- vour to get warm, the while he cursed his luck in having to leave a comfortable bache- lor fireside to make his way to Slowby Junc- tion. Mr. Ashley Jarvis had put off the going as long as possible; properly speaking, he ought to have gone down to Slowby Junction on Christmas Eve. Now, as he waited for his train, he sighed to think of that comfortable dinner lie might have eaten by his own com- fortable fireside, with a pipo to follow, in- stead of having to take this forlorn journey into the country, to see people for whom lie cared nothing. Only it happened that in some far-off time these people had been kind to him as a boy, and in a rash moment he had promised to spend a day or tvo at Christ- mas with them. There were not ninny passengers that Christmas afternoon, and Ashley Jarvis had time to examine them leisurely as he paced the platform. Only one interested him in any way, and that was a young girl, apparently of some two or three and twenty years, with a pale, delicate face, and yet with the appear- ance of one who had to fight for lierself in a difficult world, and who knew pretty well how to do it. In a curious, casual way Ashley Jarvis found himself watching her with inte- rest, as she looked after her luggage, and selected a compartment for herself. That compartment was at the very end of the little train; the guard's van was in the middle. Ashley Jarvis hesitated, and glanced towards a smoking compartment, and then into one or two others in which people were already seated finally decided to choose that' occupied by the young lady. A couple of stout, elderly people bad already taken two corners; Jarvis seated himself in the oppo- site one to the girl. She raised' her eyes quietly as he sat down, and gave him a long look—a quiet look out of extremely nice eyes; then she turned to a bock she had already opened, and proceeded to read. Ashley Jarvis settled himself in his corner, and drew his rug over his knees, and wondered how far she was going, and how she came to be travelling alone, on that day of all others. There is no necessity to chroniclo the entire journey from London to Slowby Junction, except to remark that, owing to a dense fog, which, beginning badly in London, grew worse as the journey continued, their pro- gress was slower even than 011 ordinary ccc-a- sions; and that the elderly couple got out at an intervening station, leaving Ashley Jarvis and the girl to continue their journey alone. The book was presently laid aside by the girl, and she ga~ed out of the window; although, as a mat ler of fact, there was nothing to be seen there save the thick wall of fog. When she was thus occupied, Ashley Jarvis took pleasure in studying her profile, and in de- ciding that it was. a very nice one. Just tho sort of profile, in fact, which, had he been a marrying man, and not absolutely wedded to bachelor habits, he might have been glad to se<r in that empty armchair at the opposite side of the fireplace in his sitting-room. But, of course, such a thought was absurd, and he dismissed it with a frown. The train crawled on through the fog, stop- ping now and then at places that looked like stations aud were not; and then perversely running through stations as though they didn't exist. And at last., coming within a few yards of Slowby Junction (and, by all tho rules of that extraordinary station, hesitating to go in), decided to do a curious thing. Now, it is not for me to explain the why nor the wherefore of the business; I am here to chronicle facts. And what I assert is that, at the moment the train stopped outside the station, the coupling which attached that par- ticular carriage in which Ashley Jarvis and the girl were seated decided to break, and did break forthwith. And as Slowby Junction stands on a little rise, the carriage very gently turned off, through some points that ought never to have been open, and glided into a siding; and there, with a soft little bump against a couple of stationary buffers, came to a standstill. By that time, the stationmaster, having finished the uteal that was in progress, came out of his little house, with a gaudy paper cap, from a cracker, on his head, and blew a whistle; the train glided out of Slowby Junc- tion—minus that one carriage, which no one had missed. It has to be recorded as a positive fact that Mr. Ashley Jarvis and his companion slit there, in that stationary carriage, for half-an- hour. The girl had taken up her book again, and was reading quietly Mr. Jarvis was won- dering how much longer their journey would take. He had just awakened from a semi- dream, in which, watching his companion out of half-closed eyes, he had seen her seated before him, not in a commonplace railway carriage, but in a room softly lighted by fire- light., and in a comfortable armchair opposite his own. He awakened at the sound of her voice. < "I beg your pardon," she said, "but do you think something has happened to the train? He started, and smiled, and locked out of the window. Nothing but dense fog there, and not a sound of any sort to break the still- ness. We certainly seem to be standing still," he said; "but, at the same time, I think I can assure you that we are perfectly safe. Probably the signals are against us." They couldn't see the signals in this fog," she reminded him; and he smiled meekly, and said he supposed not. After another ten minutes she looked up at him ag-c,.i ti, with a little perplexed frown. "It's most extraordinary," she said. "Do you think you could find out where we are, or whether anything has happened? "I'll try," he replied; and lowered the window to look out. Instantly a great gust of fog rushed into the carriage he hastily pulled up the win- dow. I think, perhaps, I'd better open the door and go along the footboard a little," he suggested. Is that quite safe? she asked. As we are at a standstill, I don't think there's much danger," he assured her. He opened the door and stepped out on to the footboard, moved along to the right, hold'- carefully by the handrail, and so came to the end of the carriage, with only the fog beyond. Retracing his steps, he got to that part of the carriage which should, under ordinary cir- cumstances, have been fixed to another car- riage and again encountered nothing. Finally he dropped down from the footboard to the ground, and walked away a yarci or two into that immense yellow space, ituci encountered nothing. After that, very genuinely puzzled, he made a complete circuit of the carriage, touching it hero and there so as not to get away from it, until he came to the great bank of earth, and the buffers resting against it. Climbing up again to the footboard, he felt that he understocd dimly what had happened; that on this Christmas night he was lost in the wilds of Nowhere, with a very charming pompanion, but with no prospect of dinner. He climbed back iaio the carriage, aud closed the door, and sat down opposite his companion. He began to realise the difficulty of breaking the news of such a catastrophe to her. He desired, if possible, to prepare the way a little. "My dear young lady," he began, "some- thing really has happened—and something very strange. Please don't be alarmed in any way; only it seems that we have parted com- pany with the rest of the train, and are -lost! Lost Her face seemed to turn rather white, and she looked at him again with that puzzled frown. And here it has to be re- corded that in the heart of Mr. Ashley Jarvis suddenly blossomed up a great feeling of ten- derness for this girl, lost in the wilds of Nowhere, and friendless and alone (save for his unworthy self) on this night, of all nights of the year. Something has happened to the coupling which connected our ca-riage with the train, and we have been left" behind," he went (;;1. "Nothing can happen to us in any way, be- I cause we have apparently run into a siding, which is entirely unconnected with the main line; in effect, I may say that anything may I rush past us without doing us the least damage. To explain further, I may add I "If you wouldn't be so prosy!" she ex- claimed, petulantly. Do you really mean to tell me that I am left alone here, in the middle of-of nothing-with you for company -on Christmas night? That is the actual state of affairs," he re- plied. It is monstrous she exclaimed. I can I only ask you, sir—as a gentleman—to leav9 me." Oh-very well," he said, meekly, and got out of the carriage then and there. "Where are you going?" she demanded, leaning out through the open door, and peer- ing down at him as he stood below. I don't know where I'm going. I can only obey the, mandate of a lady," he said, sorrow- fully. My present purpose is to walk round and round this carriage in the fog, in order to prevent any hidden danger from approaching you. If you will close the door you will ba warmer, and the fog will not be able to reach you." I should like you to come back-if you please," she said, tearfully. It is very noble and devoted of you, but you must not run risks on my account. Please come back." He climbed up again to the carriage, and sat down, and closed the door. Somewhat to his surprise and his delight, she welcomed him with a little friendly smile he saw, too, that she had drawn his rug about her, and had made herself comfortable in her corner. She began to remove the rug, but he stopped her hurriedly. "Please don't," he urged, "I'm quite warm. It is rather an awkward situation, isn't it?" he added, laughing. "I haven't the least idea where are, or what's going to become of us-and s Christmas night." "If we only had something to eat." she murmured, prosaically. I'm starving." I'm rather hungry," he said, with a friendly smiie. It is at this precise moment that the ancient porter of Slowby Junction makes his appear- ance. For the ancient one-firmly convinced in his own mind that the last train of the day was safely on its way, and knowing nothing of that carriage that had been left behind in the siding—had pottered off to his little wooden house, and was engaged in the preparation of bis simple evening meal. Christmas was nothing to him. save, perchance, in the way of a. memory of younger days. He crouched over his small fire, and boiled his tea, and cooked a couple of eggs. Also, to make the meal more sumptuous, he carefully buttered some thick slices of bread, and laid them down on a clean sheet of newspaper, for present con- sumption. And as he did so tho door wa3 thrust open, and Mr. Ashley Jarvis put in his head out of the fog. Ashley Jarvis had started out on a voyage of exploration. He did not know whether he would ever get back again he had a faint hone only that he might discover some cot- tage, to which he could afterwards guide the girl. And here. suddenly, he had stumbled, within a hundred yards of the carriage, upon this solitary little he se, with the man in porter's uniform alone in it. Good-evening," he said, cheerily. "Can you tell me where I am? Slowby Junction," murmured the ancient porter, whose name, by the way, was Timothy Blare. "What?" Ashley Jarvis stared at him in astonishment. Do you really mean to tell me that I am at Slowby Junction?" I am tellin' you," said the ancient one. There ain't no other Slow by Junction as I'm aware of. W'ere did yer come from? We came on the train—last carriage—a young lady and myself." Timothy Blare raised an old, old eye, and solemnly winked; evidently he was younger than his years. If you come on the train, what d'ver want with me?" he demanded. Ashley Jarvis briefly explained the situa- tion. That the carriage had in some unac- countable way detached itself from the train that it was then in a siding; and that the young lady was patiently (or impatiently) awaiting his return. There ain't no knowin' what this 'ero line'll do w'en it's put to it," said Timothy, with a chuckle, but I never knew it do this before. Question is, What am I to do? It ain't exactly in my department to be lookin' after runaway carriages. I should 'ave to wake up the station-master, an' 'im with a 'asty temper." We're very comfortable where we are," said Ashley, but we're very hungry." He eyed the eggs ravenously. Now suppose I suggested that, as eggs are rather dear at this time of year, I should give you lialf-a-crown each for them _t I might conler it," said Timothy. I'm a 'uagry m in iUoflelf, but 1 miSLut thitk about it." II A, d f I .;te(I thrv* von*" exeellent btt^d and \>utter i« worth > crown a slice-making another five shiusnr* —and that your tea might amount in aetiu- value to another half-sovereign? That would be a sovereign in all." I should call it 'andsome, and I should accept," said Timothy Blare. "I'll brine 'cm along." No, you won't," said Mr. Jprvis. hur- riedly. "We're very comfortable, and we can make a good mea 1-f are. is_your. sove- reign, on the sole condition cover us in our sorry plight ;"Uj< hour." I understan', sir," said Timothy Blare, beginning to wrap up tho egfrs in a "sheet oV newspaper, and carefully folding the bread and butter in another. Mr. Jarvis had the way carefully pointed out to him by Timothy Blare, and presently saw the lights of the carriage looming out of the fog. At the last moment a voice called to him in a hoarse whisper. It was the voice of Timothy. You can come back for 'ot water "Where did you get; it?" asked the girl, when he spread the packages on the seat. I raided a cottage near at hand—no one about," he assured her. "I took the things —and left some money on the table. Wasn't it lucky? Very," she said, eating Timothy's bread and butter, and drinking of Timothy's tea as she spoke. "This is not the sort of Christ- mas I expected at all," she went on. If only I had got to Slowby Junction, I was to have gone to Slowby Hall to spend Christmas." "You were going to Slowby Hall?" ho asked, in amazement. Yes. The dear people took pity on me, because I am all alone in the world. They told me that a man was going down they thought I should like. I expect he would have been horrid, someone stuffv and absurd. But lonely people can't afford to choose." I was going to Slowby Hall, too," he told her meekly. I was the man." "What an extraordinary thing!" she ex- ina n claimed. But really, I don't think you're stuffy or absurd at all, and I'm glad-glad I'm not alone. It's a funny sort of Christmas, isn't it ? I'm alone, too, or, rather, I should say I'm lonely," said Ashley Jarvis, ignoring her question. I'm glad of the hospitality that was offered me at Slowby Hall; but I didn't know I was going to meet anyone half so nice as you are. It's about the jolliest Christmas I've ever spent. There, I've peeled your egg for you, and it seems to be hard boiled, Won't you tell me your name? Timothy Blare performed his part to per- fection. He waited rather more than half-an- hour-just sufficient time, in fact, to cook more eggs and make fresh tea. Then he went out into the fog, carrying a lantern, and, coming to the carriage, suddenly raised his voice in a stentorian roar that rattled and rumbled up and down the line like a very earthquake. And if you had seen him staring up at Mr. Ashley Jarvis, you would have been prepared to swear that he had never seen that gentleman in his life before, and was abso- lutely amazed at finding him and his com- panion there. He rather overdid the part, as a matter of fact. He insisted on having a minute explana- tion of everything that had happened, and of the plans of the pair of derelicts. "Goin' to Slowby 'All, was you?" he asked, at last. W'y, it's on'y just over the way, in a manner o' speakin'. I can take yer to it in two minutes. A sovereign for my trouble, sir? It's 'andsome, that's wot it is." As Timothy Blare walked in front with the lantern, chuckling softly to himself, he glanced back once, and then shrugged his shoulders, with something of a little sigh. Perhaps he was thinking of days that were dead and gone. I He had noticed that the couple behind him pnokn in whispers, and that they walked tind-in-hand. I (TRia END.] -3 Upon the stair of a certain religious weekly there is evidently room for an advertisement editor. The following is our justification for the assumption: "Wanted, strong donkey, to do the work of country clergyman." "Young man," said the etern parent to the suitor tor his daughter's hand, "your prospects are not good. Yuu could not even drees your wife." "Not at fire-t, sir, perhaps; but I'm a good tryer, and I dare say I shall be able to niwiage those confounded Looks and eyes with a little practice." Cattle Show Week, Islington, Tuesday morn- ing: Country Vivitor: "Ileiio, Zeke! This is the fus' time I've met enybody I knowcd since I ben in London. Let's hev a drink." Same, Thursday t, I- .it: "Let's get clear of this plare; there goes Garge Hogben and Jeff Peters and Sam Wurzles, a.nd pretty nigh every- one we know. Where's a quiet piace for a drink?" In America the floods occasionally submerge the railway and create what is called a "tvash- out." *An eminent politician wa-s once summoned to what he feared would be an unpleasant inter- view, so lie decided to take advantage of the flooded state of the country and wired: "Sorry I cannot come. Wash out on line." He ro- ceived the following reply: "Don't mind a little thing like that. Buy a new shirt and come!"

-_uu -_u_u_- Cimtmm Qeer. WE all look forward 1o the "Festive Reason" with great pleasure. To all alike—young and old—it is a time ol "Good Cheer." Have you ever considered the amount of forethought necessary on someone's part to ensure your getting the "Good Cheer?" Arrangements have to be made months in advance to see that the" RIGHT THING IS READY AT THE RIGHT MOMENT." ff 1% 0 0 T. ROBERTS, ,%Nor STATION ROAD, — COT WYN BA Y, Has again secured vast supplies of endless varieties of .» CHRISTMAS SPECIALITIES AND' NOVELTIES. and promises you a thorough feast of good things. Obtain your supplies early, thereby getting first choice, and avoiding possible disappointment at a later date. FRUIT. CURRANTS from 4d., sd., and 6d. per lb. VALENCIA RAISINS 99 5d., 6d., and 7d. SULTANAS RAISINS 99 GD., 6D., AND YD. LEMON PEEL 4d. and 6d. u FRENCH PLUMS ,,6d „ MUSCATELS 8D., 11-, I/A XMAS CAKES. Huntley and Palmer's and Jacob's Christmas Cakes in great variety, from 6d. to 2/6 each. CRACKERS. CRACKERS (Tom Smith's), all the latest novelties in Handsome Boxes. Prices from 6d. to 3/- per box, ONLY ADDRESS- T. ROBERTS, 3famtl £ Grocer, Baker & {provision flfccrcbant ¡ STATION ROAD, Nat. Tel. 35. COLWYN BAY., 16881 CHRISTMAS~ J i» 0 # THE JOYOUS TIME OF CHILDHOOD. NO Season means more to the youngster than Christmas. The mysterious tales of SANTA CLAUS, the presents and eatables endear this time to the youthful hearts and many of our most pleasant recollect- ions of childhood days are centred on Christmas. We have made our CHRISTMAS BAZAAR a sight that the young eyes will gladden at, and one thac will take the older folks back to years gone by. All the old toys and joys are here, and all the new ones that ingenious makers have added to the list since we were young. Come and see and bring the children— it doesn'tmatter how many you've got bring them all and see a real live FATHER CHRISTMAS, into whose long Stocking each Child can have a Dip for the small sum of TWO PENCE. "ArV'V":¡' flolmn's Xmas Bazaa, STATION ROAD, 1687f1 0( COLWYN BAY. )0