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toilet table. She and all her maids and women friends who were attending at her toilet were bored to death.

      "Did any one ever know such a stupid, dismal life as we are leading?" they declared. "In heaven's name, why doesn't some one think of something to do that will vary the monotony of this routine existence? We rise in the morning, make a toilet, go to her Majesty, make a toilet, breakfast, read to her Majesty, make a toilet, dine, walk with her Majesty, sup, unmake a toilet and go to bed! Of all the awful existences I really believe ours has become the most so."

      "It is as you say, but we cannot improve matters by groaning about it. Lady Harriet, Sir Tristram has sent you some flowers," Nancy, Lady Harriet's favourite, cried, handing them to her ladyship.

      "Well, do you call that something new? because I don't! Why doesn't the cook send me some flowers – or maybe the hostler – somebody, something new? Take them out of my sight – and Sir Tristram with them, in case he appears."

      "Look at these diamonds: they sparkle like morning showers on the flowers. The sight of them is enough to please any one!"

      "It is not enough to please me," Lady Harriet declared petulantly, determined to be pleased with nothing.

      "Who is that? There is some one who wishes an audience with me! I'll see no one."

      "Ah," a man's voice announced from the curtains, "but I have come to tell you of something new, Lady Harriet!"

      "You? Sir Tristram? Is there anything new under the sun? If you really have something to suggest that is worth hearing, you may come in."

      "Listen, ladies! and tell me if I haven't conceived a clever thought. The fair is on at Richmond – "

      "Well – it is always on, isn't it?"

      "Oh, no, ladies. Only once a year – this is the time. There is a fair and there are cock-fights – "

      "Ah – that sounds rather thrilling."

      "And donkeys – "

      "Oh, there are always donkeys – always!" the ladies cried, looking hopelessly at poor Sir Tristram.

      "I mean real donkeys," the poor man explained patiently.

      "So do we mean real donkeys," they sighed.

      "And there are the races – and – well, if you will come I am certain there are several new attractions. Let me take you, Lady Harriet, and I promise to make you forget your ennui for once. Cock-fights and – "

      "Donkeys," she sighed, rising. "Very well, one might as well die of donkeys and cock-fights as of nothing at all. It is too hot, open the window – "

      "I fly."

      "Oh, heavens! now it is too cold – shut it – "

      "I fly," the unhappy Sir Tristram replied.

      "Give me my fan – "

      "I fly." He flies.

      "O lord, I don't want it – "

      "I fl – oh!" he sighed and sank into a chair, exhausted.

      [Listen]

      Come away,

      Maidens gay,

      To the fair

      All repair,

      Let us go,

      Let us show

      Willing hearts,

      Fair deserts!

      "What is that?" Harriet asked impatiently, as she heard this gay chorus sung just outside her windows.

      "A gay measure: the girls and lads going to the fair," Nancy replied.

      "Servant girls and stable boys – bah!"

      "Yes – shocking! Who would give them a thought?" Sir Tristram rashly remarked.

      "Why, I don't know! after all, they sound very gay indeed. You haven't very good taste, Sir Tristram, I declare." And at this the poor old fop should have seen that she would contradict anything that he said.

      "Oh, I remember now! Fair day is the day when all the pretty girls dress in their best and go to the fair to seek for places, to get situations. They hire themselves out for a certain length of time! – till next year, I think. Meantime they dance in their best dresses and have a very gay day of it."

      "That sounds to me rather attractive," Lady Harriet remarked thoughtfully.

      "A foolish fancy, your ladyship," the unfortunate Sir Tristram put in.

      "Now I am resolved to go! Get me that bodice I wore at the fancy dress ball, Nancy. We shall all go – I shall be Martha, – Nancy, and old Rob."

      "And – and who may be 'old Rob,' your ladyship?" Sir Tristram asked, feeling much pained at this frivolity.

      "Why, you, to be sure. Come! No mumps! No dumps! We are off!"

      "Oh, this is too much."

      "What, Sir Tristram, is that the extent of your love for me?"

      "No, no – I shall do as you wish – but," the poor old chap sighed heavily.

      "To be sure you will – so now, Nancy, teach old Rob how the yokels dance, and we'll be off."

      "This is too much. I can't dance in that manner."

      "Dance – or leave me! Dance – or stay at home, sir!" Harriet cried sternly.

      "O heaven – I'll dance," and so he tried, and the teases put him through all the absurd paces they knew, till he fell exhausted into a seat.

      "That was almost true to nature," they laughed. "You will do, so come along. But don't forget your part. Don't let us see any of the airs of a nobleman or you shall leave us. We'll take you, but if you forget your part we shall certainly leave you," and they dragged him off recklessly.

      At the fair, ribbons were flying, bands were playing, lads and lasses were dancing, and farmers were singing:

      [Listen]

      Bright and buxom lasses,

      Come, the fair shall now begin,

      Show your rosy faces

      And our hearts ye soon shall win.

      Fleet of foot, and clad with neatness,

      Come and let the master choose;

      Sweet of temper, all discreetness,

      Who a prize like this would lose?

      Done is the bargain if the maid is trusty, blythe and willing;

      Done is the bargain if she accepts the master's proffered shilling!

      Thus, the farmers who had come to the fair to choose a maid-servant, sang together. The maid-servants were meanwhile singing a song of their own, and everybody was in high feather.

      Now to this fair had come two farmers in particular; one being farmer Plunkett, and the other, altogether a handsome fellow, named Lionel, who was the foster-brother of Plunkett. As a matter of fact, he was left in his babyhood on the doorstep of Plunkett's father, who adopted him and brought him up with his own son. The baby had had nothing by which he could be identified, but there was a ring left with him, and the instruction that it was to be shown to the Queen in case the boy should ever find himself in serious trouble when he grew up. Now both these gay farmers had come to secure maid-servants for the year, and Plunkett came up to inspect the girls as they assembled.

      "What a clatter! This becomes a serious matter. How on earth is a man to make a choice with such confusion all about him?"

      "Oh well, there is no haste," Lionel replied leisurely.

      "No haste? I tell you, Lionel, we can't afford to lose any time. There is that farm falling to pieces for need of a competent servant to look after it! I should say there was haste, with a vengeance. We must

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