Then something funny happened.() ???!

Gogg was in love with Sarah Blayre. She was tall, bony, petite, unassuming. Unfortunately she was already married to her second husband. Gogg was engaged to another estimable young woman. Such things are common in England. They make an interesting story! - !

"But they don't, Charles, they don't," said S. Mark sadly. "And they are not moral. Own up, Charles, that you don't care for morals."

"For the public's, not my own." And the reader sat down.

There was an awkward pause. Miss Baddone was blushing deeply. She never spoke out quite so openly as that in any of her books. She felt that she ought to be indignant; and so, after mature deliberation, she fixed her eyes meaningly upon Mr. Reade's manuscript and frowned. Then when she had drawn upon herself the attention of the entire assembly, she left the room with an air of offended dignity which became her exceedingly well. Mr. Algernon C. Swansdown moved restlessly in his seat. "If that's not nice enough for her, it certainly just suits me," he murmured; and turning to a lady beside him whispered, "Now is your chance."

"I have a distinctly moral purpose," this lady began, "in everything I say, although I always speak out plain and 'call a spade a spade.'"

"Nothing moral, Mrs. Tow, nothing moral," cried Swansdown. "Take example by me! Now I have something with me written by one of the rising geniuses of your land, who is too modest to come among us and deliver it, - that brave young spirit who for four long years has succeeded in veiling his identity under those cabalistic initials, which you know so well. Just listen! -

AUTUMN'S ANDANTE.O WILD wind, wailing wantonly about the rattling rafters! -

The cackle of the hens accompanied by love's low laughters,

The ditch that breathes malaria, the stagnant cistern's scum,

The bull-frog croaking dismally among the gentians glum,

Your sibilating sweet soft sounds, in seasons sick and sad,

Have sometimes soothed me into sleep, and sometimes made me mad!

A murmur of applause arose simultaneously to the ceiling. It was the incense of the old to the new genius. There was a soulful pause. Then a tottering form arose, and a cracked voice cried, "Oh, how that jibes in with my melodious mood! Singers and teachers of man, will you not listen?" -