morning from a brown-paper cartridge, who happened to be staying in
the same drawer as myself, and knew the latest Court news."

But the Catherine Wheel shook her head. "Romance is dead, Romance
is dead, Romance is dead," she murmured. She was one of those
people who think that, if you say the same thing over and over a
great many times, it becomes true in the end.

Suddenly, a sharp, dry cough was heard, and they all looked round.

It came from a tall, supercilious-looking Rocket, who was tied to
the end of a long stick. He always coughed before he made any
observation, so as to attract attention.

"Ahem! ahem!" he said, and everybody listened except the poor
Catherine Wheel, who was still shaking her head, and murmuring,
"Romance is dead."

"Order! order!" cried out a Cracker. He was something of a
politician, and had always taken a prominent part in the local
elections, so he knew the proper Parliamentary expressions to use.

"Quite dead," whispered the Catherine Wheel, and she went off to
sleep.

As soon as there was perfect silence, the Rocket coughed a third
time and began. He spoke with a very slow, distinct voice, as if
he was dictating his memoirs, and always looked over the shoulder
of the person to whom he was talking. In fact, he had a most
distinguished manner.