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The Narrative of a Nut.

I am a delightful brown being—yclept, a nut—small in size, but very large in wisdom, for I grow upon the Tree of Life, and I contain within me much of that subtle substance that one calls Importance.

I am good to look at—very! Although, alas!' alas!' tis all too true that my enemies call me "empty." Empty—I! when within me is the kernel of cleverness, of brilliance, and of wit; and without me the world would be at a stand-still, or perhaps even—woeful thought—in a state of vegetation!

I am the inspiration of all that is original, and all that is delightfully wicked. Even in my old age I shall be of vast importance to the world, for then shall I be that most indispensable dessert of all dinners (and especially of male dinners)—a chestnut.

A propos of dinners, I have many tales to tell, for they are—of all the attractions that this fair earth presents—the things nearest my heart. I revel in them! Often times, at such functions, my fellow-nuts and I have so greatly startled the assembled company with our mirth that the cocoa-nuts have predicted the early advent of our day of roasting; and it is perhaps in consequence to these episodes that we have earned for ourselves the title of "The Hotties."

None the less dining and dinners do not occupy the whole of my pleasure hours. I spend (some would say "waste") much thought and time upon the fairer sex—the Ginger-Nuts. Sweet young things are they, playing a part in the work of the world almost as important as ours—but not quite! It is of course to the nut proper that the praise and honour for all noble deeds belong, although at times we humour our fair ones by leading them to regard themselves as very wise. Sad it is to think that as the Tree of Life grows older the nature of things is constantly changing. In those good days, when the fair Ginger-Nut was ever kept outside the walls of the Biscuit-Tin of Education, she was wont page 26 to be always soft and pliant—a lithe and lovely being—but in this present age she enters, all unbidden, within the precincts of that vast Tin, and—once within—her charm is gone for ever, and her pliancy gives way to a hardness that is unbroken even by the use of crackers. But, Fellow-Nuts, I say unto you "Courage"! For the day is at hand when the Lid of theBiscuit Tin shall be permanently closed to all members of the fairer sex, and it is who will bring, the debonnaire—to becrushed beneath the withering, scornful glance of a fair, but all-too-learned Ginger-nut ? Behold me! Admire me! Trust me! Bend but to my will—and all the world is ours! I am a Nut!

"Muscade."