common in the air. He grinned and sez :— Bote achee! I goin' damn fast.' I prayed that the Kernel's b'roosh wudn't arrive till me darlin' Benira by the grace av God was undher weigh. The little man puts his thruck into the hekka an' scuttles in like a fat guinea-pig; niver offerin' us the price of a dhrink for our services in helpin' him home. He's off to the Padsahi jhil,' sez I to the others."

Ortheris took up the tale :

"Jist then, little Buldoo kim up, 'oo was the son of one of the Artillery Saises-'e would 'av made a 'evinly newspaper-boy in London, bein' sharp and fly to all manner o' games. 'E 'ad bin watchin' us puftin' Mister Benhira into 's temporary baroush, an' 'e sez:-- What 'ave you been a doin' of, Sahibs?' sez'e. Learoyd 'e caught 'im by the ear an' 'e sez-"

"Ah says," went on Learoyd: "Young mon, that mon's gooin' to have't goons out o' Thursday-kul- an' thot's more work for you, young mon. Now, sitha, tak a tat an' a lookri, an' ride tha domdest to t' Padsahi Jhil. Cotch thot there hekka, and tell t' driver iv your lingo thot you've coom to tak' his place. T' Sahib doesn't speak t' bat, an' he's a little mon. Drive thekka into t Padsahi Jhil into t' watter. Leave t' Sahib theer an' roon

hoam; an here's a rupee for tha."

Then Mulvaney and Ortheris spoke together in alternate fragments: Mulvaney leading [You must pick out the two speakers as best you can.]:-"He was a knowin' little divil was Bhuldoo, -'e sez bote achee an' cutswid a wink in his oi-but Hi sez there's money to be made-an' I want to see the end av the campaign-so Hi says we'll double hout to the Padsahi Jhil-and save the little man from bein' dacoited by the murtherin' Bhuldoo -an' turn hup like reskoors in a Ryle Victoria Theayter

Melodrama-so we doubled for the jhil, an' prisintly there was the divil of a hurroosh behind us an' three bhoys on grasscuts' tats come by, pounding along for the dear life -s'elp me Bob, hif Buldoo 'adn't raised a regular harmy of decoits-to do the job in shtile. An' we ran, an they ran, shplittin' with laughin', till we gets near the jhiland 'ears sounds of distress floatin' molloncally on the heavenin' hair." [Ortheris was growing poetical under the influence of the beer. The duet recommenced; Mulvaney leading again.]

"Thin we heard Bhuldoo, the dacoit, shoutin' to the hekka man, an' wan of the young divils brought his lakri down on the top av the hekka-cover, an' Benira Thrigg inside howled 'Murther an' Death.' Buldoo takes the reins and dhrives like mad for the jhil, havin' dishpersed the hekka-dhriver-'oo cum up to us an' 'e sez, sezie :— 'That Sahib's nigh gawbry with funk! Wot devil's work 'ave you led me into?' 'Hall right,' sez we, 'you puckrow that there pony an' come along. This Sahib's been decoited, an' we're going to resky 'im!' Says the driver: 'Decoits! Wot decoits? That's Buldoo the budmash '— 'Bhuldoo be shot!' sez we. "Tis a woild dissolute Pathan frum the hills. There's about eight av 'im coercin' the Sahib. You remimber that an' you'll get another rupee! Then we heard the whop-whop turnin' over, an' a splash av water an' th

the hekka

y Benira

Buldoo

Thrigg callin' upon God to forgive his s... an' 'is friends squotterin' in the water like boys in the Serpentine."

Here the Three Musketeers retired simultaneously into the beer.

"Well? What came next?" said I.

"Fwhat nex'?" answered Mulvaney, wiping his mouth. "Wud you let three bould sodger-bhoys lave the ornamint

av the House av Lords to be dhrowned an' dacoited in a jhil? We formed line av quarther-column an' we desinded upon the inimy. For the better part av tin minutes you could not hear yerself spake. The tattoo was screamin' in chune wid Benira Thrigg an' Bhuldoo's army, an' the shticks was whistlin' roun' the hekka, an' Orth'ris was beatin' the hekka-cover wid his fistes, an' Learoyd yellin' :-'Look out for their knives!' an' me cuttin' into the dark, right an' lef', dishpersin' arrmy corps av Pathans. Holy Mother av Moses! 'twas more disp'rit than Ahmid Kheyl wid Maiwund thrown in. Afther a while Bhuldoo an' his bhoys flees. Have ye iver seen a rale live Lord thryin' to hide his nobility undher a fut an' a half av brown jhil wather? 'Tis the livin' image av a bhisti's mussick wid the shivers. It tuk toime to pershuade me frind Benira he was not disimbowilled: an' more toime to get out the hekka. The dhriver come up afther the battle, swearin' he tuk a hand in repulsin' the inimy. Benira was sick wid the fear. We escorted him back, very slow, to cantonmints, for that an' the chill to soak into him. It suk! Glory be to the Rigimintil Saint, but it suk to the marrow av Lord Benira Thrigg!"

Here Ortheris, slowly, with immense pride:-"'E sez: -You har my noble preservers,' sez 'e. 'You har a honor to the Br Harmy,' sez 'e. With that 'e describes the hawful bat of decoits wot set on 'im. There was about forty of 'em an' 'e was hoverpowered by numbers, so 'e was; but 'e never lost 'is presence of mind, so 'e didn't. 'E guv the hekka-driver five rupees for 'is noble hassistance, an' 'e said 'e would see to us after 'e 'ad

spoken to the Kernul. For we was a honor to the Regi

ment, we was.”

"An' we three," said Mulvaney, with a seraphic smile, "have dhrawn the par-ti-cu-lar attinshin av Bobs Baha

dur more than wanst. But he's a rale good little man is Bobs. Go on, Orth'ris, me son."

"Then we leaves 'im at the Kernul's 'ouse, werry sick, an' we cuts over to B. Comp'ny barrick an' we sez we 'ave saved Benira from a bloody doom, an' the chances was agin there bein' p'raid on Thursday. About ten minutes later come three envelicks, one for each of us. S'elp me Bob, if the old bloke 'adn't guv us a fiver apiece-sixty-four dibs in the bazaar! On Thursday 'e was in 'orspital recoverin' from 's sanguinary encounter with a gang of Pathans, an' B Comp'ny was drinkin' 'emselves inter clink by squads. So there never was no Thursday p'raid. But the Kernul, when 'e 'eard of our galliant conduct, 'e sez :-'Hi know there's been some devilry somewheres,' sez 'e, but hi can't bring it 'ome to you three.""

"An' my privit imprisshin is," said Mulvaney, getting off the bar and turning his glass upside down, "that, av they had known they wudn't have brought ut home. 'Tis flyin' in the face, firstly av Nature, second, av the Rig'lations, an' third, the will av Terence Mulvaney, to hold p'rades av Thursdays."

"Good, ma son!" said Learoyd; "but, young mon, what's t' notebook for?"

"Let be," said Mulvaney; "this time next month. we're in the Sherapis. "Tis immortial fame the gentleman's goin' to give us. But kape it dhark till we're out av the range av me little frind Bobs Bahadur."

And I have obeyed Mulvaney's order.

HIS CHANCE IN LIFE.

Then a pile of heads he laid-
Thirty thousand heaped on high-

All to please the Kafir maid,
Where the Oxus ripples by.

Grimly spake Atulla Khan :-
"Love hath made this thing a Man."

Oatta's Story.

IF you go straight away from Levées and Govern ment House Lists, past Trades' Balls-far beyond everything and everybody you ever knew in your respectable life-you cross, in time, the Border line where the last drop of White blood ends and the full tide of Black sets in. It would be easier to talk to a new made Duchess on the spur of the moment than to the Borderline folk without violating some of their conventions or hurting their feelings. The Black and the White

mix very quaintly in their ways. Sometimes the White shows in spurts of fierce, childish pride-which is Pride of Race run crooked-and sometimes the Black in still fiercer abasement and humility, half-heathenish customs and strange, unaccountable impulses to crime. One of these days, this people-understand they are far lower than the class whence Derozio, the man who imitated Byron, sprung-will turn out a writer or a poet; and then we shall know how they live and what they feel. In the meantime, any stories about them cannot be absolutely correct in fact or inference.

Miss Vezzis came from across the Borderline to look