Why! There was a beautiful knife!
Mother came in and watched his face, but at sight of her the boy
fairly broke down. Laying his head on her shoulder, "It's like Polly
coming back," he said.
And so it was, and so it continued to be.
[Illustration: BOGGS SHOULD NOT HAVE HAD HIS PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN ON
THANKSGIVING DAY, AND EATEN A HEARTY DINNER AFTERWARD.]
THE LORD MAYOR OF LONDON'S SHOW.
BY JENNIE A. OWEN.
"Aunt Jennie," said my little godson Willie, a few days ago, "wont
you go with us to see the Lord Mayor's show? There'll be thirteen
elephants and eight clowns, and an elephant picks a man up with his
trunk and holds him there. And then mamma's going to take me to
Sampson's. Do you know Sampson, Aunt Jennie?"
"I know about Samson in the Bible, Willie."
"Oh, not that one; our Sampson is a man in a shop in Oxford street,
and he makes such nice boys' clothes, and he's the master."
I have just come home from the Sandwich Islands, where I have been
living; I spent a few years, too, in New Zealand and Tahiti, and so
have seen many wonderful things on the land and sea; but a Lord Mayor
going to be sworn in to his duties, attended by thirteen elephants and
a London crowd, would be a novelty to me.
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