penny stamp about, Kidd Shinar would
summon him in like manner, and tell him
to fetch a lighted candle, as though there
were nothing of the kind close by. And each
having heard each other's dinner orders,
we would make precisely the same
gastronomic inquiries upon our own account, as
though we had no data to go upon. We
behaved, indeed, we flattered ourselves (and
without the flattery it would be impossible
to keep this sort of thing up), as only
English gentlemen can behave, for eleven
wet days long. On the twelfth day Kidd
Shinar of her Majesty's Foot gave in, and
commenced conversation. He made a
remark which was brief, to the point, and not
admissive of any obstructive argument:

"What is to be done, to-day?" we inquired
simultaneously of the waiter, after breakfast.

"Well, gentlemen, I'm afraid it will be wet."

"Afraid! What do you mean by afraid?"
said the Lieutenant; "you know it will be
wet, you vagabond! Is there anything
going on besides the rain?"

"To-day, sir—let me see, sir—the twenty-
eighth? There are races at the forest
to-day, sir."

"What forest?" I inquired.

"Exmoor, sir,—Exmoor Forest."

"But I thought Exmoor was a moor," I
said,—"a place without a tree."

"So it is," said Thompson, "that's why
they call it a forest.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, let's go," said I.

"Exmoor is very beautiful, only a little
exposed in bad weather," doubted Thompson.

"Have you got a fly in?" asked the
lieutenant.

"Not exactly a covered fly; no, sir; the
covered flys are all out; we've a dog-
cart, sir." He looked through the back
window where the vehicle in question was
standing in the yard under a shed. The rain was
falling upon it slowly and steadily, just
as it had done at its commencement, two
hundred and sixty-four hours before.

"I don't see any signs of a break," said
Shinar gloomily, "do you?"

"No; I only see a dog cart," replied
Thompson, laughing. We all laughed, it
was very excusable in people who had not
smiled for a week.

"Let us go," I said once more, greatly
refreshed.

"Let's!" echoed the other two. We got a
bill of the entertainment, whose very
simplicity (a farmer's plate, a pony race, and a
donkey race) seemed to promise well; and
Thompson, who knew the ten miles that lay
between us and the festive scene, agreed
to drive. I insisted upon sitting behind,
because I am of a modest and retiring nature
by birth, and because I saw that my two
friends would thus intervene between the
rain and me. Kidd Shinar had a bran new
green silk umbrella of exquisite proportions
but rather delicate make, and his get-up was
effeminately gorgeous, such as encases youth
upon the grassy slopes of Goodwood, or in
the Stand on Ascot Heath. Olive Thompson
was but little less resplendent as a member
of the western circuit taking holiday; and as
for myself, my clothes were from Bond Street,
quite sufficiently unpaid for, and I also had a
rather fashionable silk umbrella. We were
certainly none of us equipped for that twenty-
eighth day of August upon Exmoor. We
had railway rugs and summer overcoats
however; and lighting our cigars, we started
hopefully. There were seven hills or so
to be ascended before we could reach the
moorland, and throughout the whole of that
distance did Olive Thompson descant upon
the sublimity of a scene that was entirely
hidden in fog; it was like talking of some
beloved relative to an unfortunate person
who has never chanced to see that person.

"Here's where I took my sketch of the
Thread Stream," said he, suddenly pulling up
at a cataract; "you may remember the
picture perhaps, Mr. Shinar, in the Exhibition
of last year?"

"No, I didn't see it," said the Lieutenant
sharply, for he was getting bored and damp.

"In water-colours I conclude," said I,
smiling, so that he should not miss the joke.

"No, sir," said the artist gravely, "in oils;
it was twenty-five feet from the door of the
octagon room, and three inches from the
floor; it was considered rather fine."

"Was it?" I said as drily.

There was then a silence for about a mile,
except for the soft sough of the rain, and for
the wind which caught us from time to time
round the corners of the road, and threatened
to overturn the whole concern into the ravine
beneath.

"Look out for your umbrellas at the turn
here," cried Thompson presently.

"I can't hear a word you say," roared Kidd.

"Look out for your ——"

The reiterated warning was lost in a sudden
gust; there was a sharp whirring noise, as if
a pheasant had started up at the back of me;
and, turning round, I perceived the
lieutenant's umbrella, upside down and in
ribbons looking like nothing so much as that
parachute which came down upon
Blackheath, so contrary to poor Mr. Cocker's
calculations. Kidd Shinar presented a
spectacle so utterly wretched, and appeared so
despairingly unconscious of the rain, which was
just beginning to spoil his beautifully brushed
hat, that I could scarcely hold on for laughing.
Thompson, who had had nothing but the
drippings of this green umbrella by way
of shelter (which had already turned his blue
cravat yellow), was not displeased.

"I vote we go back," exclaimed Kidd
Shinar.

"O, no," said the barrister (who had a