The Arrival.

The sum shone high in the heavens and the lark trilled its blithesome carol on high as a trim galleon "The Saucy Jane," with her precious burden of Yorky and suite, did skip and merrily glide o'er the foam-creasted breakers adown the harbour to the wharf of Ferguson, Wellington's man of deep cult and great learning—for had he not clothed the wharf in a garb of iron, yea, a monkey cage, lest it chance upon some morn the citizens should wake to find the wharf stolen away by base poltroons of the night.

Blithe and gay was the quay with bunting and banners like unto cloth of gold, and gladsome to the eye were the preparations for the pageant, for was it not a generation since the uncle of his nephew, even he of Edinbrough and a prince of the blood, graced our shores with his knightly presence?

Scarce had the prow of the vessel touched the side when the Dook leaped lightly ashore, and in courtly fashion did waltz him into Dick the Miner and fling him upon the portly stomach thereof and weep tears of joy; and Dick with mighty power lifted up his voice and trolled forth a merry lilt, even "Whack-fol-the-diddle-lol-the-day."

And the crowd witnessing rejoiced thereat and were exceeding glad, even as 'twere a race meeting or a dog fight.

"Come," spake Dick the Miner, "an' thy fair lady pleaseth, get we unto the tavern, for verily would we shout thee wine, even to overflowing." And he of York replied, "Whithersoever thou goest, I'm with yer." And time and again would Dick with lusty voice cry mystic words, "Tak baud and sup, lad."

And so, with many a quip and crank from Dooky and a measure of cajolery from Dicky, moistened with frequent potations, time flew on apace, when George of York, with much ceremony and more pulling together of erstwhile woolgathering wits, did produce him from the inner sanctuary of his nether vestments a voluminous and scrip-like scroll of parchment with the regal seal attached thereto. Of a verity, 'twas a letter from King Edward VII. to Richard of the House of Seddon. Hereunder we append the mystic missive, that the gentle reader may witness how the most high do pen their epistolary presentments to the most high:—

"To

"Richard of the House of Seddon, Emperor of Stewart Island, King of the Fijis, and Vice-Regal Represen-tative of Kaiwarra and New Zealand—Greeting:

"Our beloved son cometh unto thy shores for a sojourn amongst our subjects of the Cross that is Southern:

"Now Therefore Knowest Thou That We By These Presents do hasten to inscribe this greeting unto thee, Oh, uncrowned one, for that thou didst give us much pleasure in the portliness of thy bearing, the stature of thy anecdotes, and the heart of gold hidden behind thy capacious waistcoat:

"We pray thee to keep watch over our well-beloved son, keep him not out after the hour of evensong, as the night wind is chill, and perchance he may contract an ague from damp socks. See that he tarry not too long in any of the provinces of thy dominion, for methinks the maidens of the colony are comely and fair of speech, and sons of England have ever an eye for a beauteous maid.

"We must now conclude. Hoping thou art well, as this leaves us at present. Greeting to thy lady and all the little Seddons.

"Given under our hand and seal.

"Edward Rex.

"P.S.—Any time thou mayst be passing, drop in and have a cup of tea and a muffin."

And here the People's Dick did burst him into tears and wept copiously, which was nigh unto causing a drought in the tavern.

"Prithee, Oh, Seddon," cried George, "buck up, pull down thy vest and gird up thy loins and get we to our loving spouses, and the Lord of Ranfurly, whom we have not yet gazed upon nor even embraced."

And so with deep sobs of joy Richard of Seddon and George of York, with true maritime roll and longshoreman lurch, did traverse the byways, exchanging many glances of cunning import, until came they unto the mansion of the Lord of Ranfurly, where all was turmoil at the long tarrying of the Prince and the people's Dick.

Right glad were the greetings and merry was the laughter, e'en till the rafters rang, as we (for there were two of me) eyed askance the scene of junketings and festivity.

Here, and it please the reader, we will digress yet a space, and speak of ourselves insomuch as necessity demandeth the same.

In the search of copy and information of the Dook's household and appurtenances, Romulus and Remus proceeded with much preparation to take by storm the hearts of two of the handmaidens of the Dook's lady. Approaching with stealthy and panther-like tread, he of the pencil, yea, Romulus, spake fair words to one Abigail, a sweet demoiselle of some twenty summers (and a few odd winters)—

"Marry come up, sweet wench, what ho! Prithee, is thy father in work, and how doth thy sweet mother for soap? "

The wench replied with rippling accents, like unto pearls falling from a coral cave—

"Ods life, good sir, an' thou makest too free with a lady, and thy familiarity may breed distemper. Out upon thee!"

And he proceeded to out upon himself, and with so much success that ere they had spoken each other the space of ten minutes he gleaned all her primaeval history and the untoward reasons for her mother's dismissal from the laundry; after which little pleasantries they meandered them adown the Quay in search of the festive pie shop. Meanwhile Remus the Scribe, with many a courtly bow and obeisance, did waft him into close proximity to Susan Jane, and with unctuous suavity did deliver himself thus—

"Tut! Tut! Pretty one! Methinks a sweeter maid ne'er ate pipis, nor footed with such merry grace the blithesome jig. Art here with thy mother's pleasure, or dost come a husband-seeking? An' thou wilt, we'll tread a measure down the Quay, where mine host Palmer, the Oyster King, will make a pretty feast of flounder and vin de Speight!"