A moment he beat
his fallen enemy with the umbrella, as though madly striving to actually
hammer it into the earth; then, as suddenly, suspended his attack,
stooped low to eye his victim more closely, and, with a fierce pounce,
had it in his grasp. "Was it only thisss?" he hissed, holding it at
arm's length: "Sold again: signed, J. BUMSTEAD." And, hanging it over
his umbrella, he stalked moodily onward.
"What a struggle his whole lonely life is!" said EDWIN DROOD, coming out
from the porch.
FLORA'S parting look, as she entered the door, was as though she had
said, "Oh! don't you understand?" But the young man went away
unconscious of its meaning.
(_To be Continued_.)
* * * * *
[Illustration: "THE NEXT THING TO IT."
SCENE--NORTH ADAMS.
_Butcher, (who is not quite prepared for the new order of things, to
Chinese delegation:)_ "WELL, WE'RE JUST OUT OF DOG, BUT WE'VE SOME
FIRST-RATE SAUSAGES."]
* * * * *
A SEASONABLE PARODY.
Three women went waddling out into the surf,
Out into the surf at Newport town;
Each wore a bath suit of the very best,
Costing as much as a wedding-gown.
For men must work, and women must lave,
And what men earn their wives don't save,
Though husbands they be moaning.
Three brokers sat up at three high desks,
And balanced their books as the sun went down;
Each "poring" o'er ledgers that wouldn't come straight,
Each wrapped in a study disgustingly brown.
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