PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS.
(A Yule-tide Story told in Advance.)
Yes, Scrooge was an altered man! He was genial and amiable, and altogether an estimable being. Scrooge's nephew was delighted with the change. He could scarcely believe his ears and eyes.
"And don't you really interfere with the theatres, Sir?" asked Scrooge's nephew. "At one time you were always telling them to take down this, and put up that, and making the lives of the managers burdens to them. Don't you interfere any longer?"
"Of course not, my lad," replied Scrooge, heartily. "Why should I? This is the pleasantest world imaginable, and it would be less charming without its playhouses."
"Right you are, Sir," returned Scrooge's nephew; "but I suppose you look in occasionally at the halls to supervise the entertainments?"
"I look in to enjoy them, my boy!" cried Scrooge, with a ringing laugh, that could be heard for furlongs. "What do they want with my supervision?"
"I am sure I don't know, uncle; but I thought it was a way you had. And then you are going to strip the hoardings of the posters, aren't you?"
"I strip the hoardings of the posters! Why should I? The hoardings look a precious sight better covered with pictures than left to dirt and decay. I interfere with the hoardings! I never heard of such a thing! What put that into your head?"
"Well, it used to be an old way of yours," returned Scrooge's nephew. "Why, uncle, don't you remember? You used to be interfering with and ordering about everything. Taking up the road and closing the thoroughfare. Bothering the costermongers and the retail shopkeepers and the small householders. In fact, making yourself a general nuisance in all directions. Why, uncle, you have entirely changed your nature!"
"Not at all," said Scrooge. "I am not changed, but my office is. Do you not know that I have ceased to be a member of the London County Council?"
"No, this is the first time I have heard of it! Why, that accounts for everything! It explains why you are a pleasant, good-natured old gentleman in lieu of a curmudgeon and a brute. It explains everything."
And it did!
MISUNDERSTOOD.
Noble Philanthropist. "That Parcel seems rather heavy for you, my little Man! Let me take it!"
Small boy. "Let yer tyke my Parcel! Garn with yer. I'll call the Perlice!"
Name! Name!—No name has been announced for the new daily paper projected by Mr. Stead. In view of the plan frankly set forth in the prospectus, whereby one hundred thousand persons are to subscribe the capital, and if the venture proves a success the enterprising editor is to have the option of acquiring the property, a suitable title would be, Heads-I-Win-Tails-You-Lose. It is a little long, perhaps; but it precisely describes the relative positions, and you can't—at least some people can't—have everything.
Dramatic Recipe (from the Queen's Cookery Book).—First catch your Hare.
THE DARK CONTINENT IN TWO LIGHTS.
Scene—A conquered country. Time—The Past. Conquerors (colonists) panting after their hard work in defeating the natives. Enter an Official. The remaining members of the Colonial Band sing the National Anthem.
Official. I congratulate you upon your success. The more especially as you have gained it without the assistance of the Imperial power. (The Colonists indulge in feeble cheers.) But now my turn has arrived. In the name of the Sovereign I claim this land for England!
[Plants the British Flag. Curtain.
Scene—As before. Time—The Present. Conquerors (colonists) smoking after the pleasant toil of mowing down the natives. Enter an Official. The Colonial Band (in its entirety) takes no notice.
Official. I congratulate you upon your success. The more especially as you have gained it without the assistance of the Imperial power. (The Colonists indulge in roars of laughter.) But now my turn has arrived. In the name of the Sovereign I claim this land for England!
Colonists. No you don't! Be off! We can get on without you!
[Turns Official and his Flag out of the Country. Curtain.
ARGENTINA.
[It is stated that Jabez S. Balfour is living "in a perfect fairy-land.">[
I Dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,
With orchids on every side,
A very long way from Old Bailey's walls,
Where Newton and Hobbs were tried.
I had riches too great to count; could boast
Of Jabez, an elegant name;
And I also dreamt, which charmed me most,
Argentina loved me the same.
I dreamt that my country let me go,
In an indolent sort of way,
For Scotland Yard did not seem to know
It would "want" me another day.
So they carefully closed the stable-door,
When I'd fled beyond reach of blame;
And I also dreamt, which charmed me more,
Argentina loved me the same.
I dreamt that detectives sought my hand,
But their warrants I could not see.
So their vows my swindler's heart could withstand,
Though they pledged their faith to me.
Buenos Ayres' bold, brazen face,
Never glows with the blush of shame;
Though I should be lynched in a decent place,
Argentina loves me the same.
A Great Field for Humorists Annually.—"Wit acres' Almanack."