sat himself down on the kerb, placed his billycock hat solemnly on his knees, and buried his face in a flaming red handkerchief.

This unprecedented sight stirred the depths of the one and only policeman's heart, and he strode valiantly across the road, prepared to do his duty at all costs.

Touching B.-P.

upon the shoulder with his white cotton glove, the constable demanded, in a deep voice, "Arnd, whaaet's the matter wi' you, eh ?" Slowly removing the handkerchief from his eyes, and with a perfectly solemn face, B.-P.

explained that he had just at that moment tumbled out of his nurse's arms and that the silly woman had gone on without noticing it.