did not ask each other eagerly who she was, for most of them knew her already as Miss Partington-Smith. A brewer's son led her off to dance.

The night wore on slowly. One young man after another trod on Cinderella's toes, trotted in circles round her, ran her violently backwards into some other man, or swooped with her into the fireplace. Cinderella, whose feet seemed mechanically to adapt themselves to the interpretation of the Boston that was forming in her partner's brain, bore it from each one as long as she could; and then led the way to a quiet corner, where she confessed frankly that she had NOT bought all her Christmas presents yet, and that she WAS going to Switzerland for the winter.

The gelatine manufacturer's son took her in to supper. It was noticed that Cinderella looked much happier as soon as they had sat down, and indeed throughout the meal she was in the highest spirits. For some reason or other she seemed to find even Mr Hogbin endurable. But just as they were about to return to the ball-room an expression of absolute dismay came over her face.

"Anything the matter?" said her partner.

"N--no," said Cinderella; but she made no effort to move.

"Well, shall we come?"

"Y--yes."

She waited a moment longer, dropped her fan under the table, picked it up slowly, and followed him out.

"Let's sit down here," she said in the hall; "not upstairs."

They sat in silence; for he had exhausted his stock of questions at the end of their first dance, and had told her all about Australia during supper; while she apparently had no desire for conversation of any kind, being wrapped up in her thoughts.

"I'll wait here," she said, as a dance began. "If you see mother, I wish you'd send her to me."

Her mother came up eagerly.

"Well, dear?" she said.

"Mother," said Cinderella, "do take me home at once. Something extraordinary has happened."

"It's young Mr Hogbin! I knew it!"

"Who? Oh--er--yes, of course. I'll tell you all about it in the carriage, mother."

"Is my little girl going to be happy?"

"I don't know," said Cinderella anxiously. "There's just a chance."

The chance must have come off, for, once in the carriage, Cinderella gave a deep sigh of happiness.

"Well, dear?" said her mother again.

"You'll NEVER guess, mother," laughed Cinderella. "Try."

"I guess that my little daughter thinks of running away from me," said her mother archly. "Am I right?"

"Oh, how lovely! Why, running away is simply the LAST thing I could do. Look!" She stretched out her foot-clothed only in a pale blue stocking.

"Cinderella!"

"I TOLD you they were too tight," she explained rapidly, "and I was trodden on by every man in the place, and I simply HAD to kick them off at supper, and--and I only got one back. I don't know what happened to the other; I suppose it got pushed along somewhere, but, anyhow, _I_ wasn't going under the table after it." She laughed suddenly and softly to herself. "I wonder what they'll do when they find the slipper?" she said.

. . . . . . . .

Of course the King's son (or anyhow, Mr Hogbin) ought to have sent it round to all the ladies in Mayfair, taking knightly oath to marry her whom it fitted. But what actually happened was that a footman found it, and, being very sentimental and knowing that nobody would ever dare to claim it, carried it about with him ever afterwards--thereby gaining a great reputation with his cronies as a nut.

Oh, and by the way--I ought to put in a good word for the godmother. She did her best.

"Cinderella!" said her mother at lunch next day, as she looked up from her letters. "Why didn't you tell me your godmother was ill?"

"She wasn't very well when I left her, but I didn't think it was anything much. Is she bad? I AM sorry."

"She writes that she has obtained measles. I suppose that means YOU'RE infectious. Really, it's very inconvenient. Well, I'm glad we didn't know yesterday or you couldn't have gone to the dance."

"Dear fairy godmother!" said Cinderella to herself. "She was a day too late, but how sweet of her to think of it at all!"

A LITERARY LIGHT

ANNESLEY BUPP was born one of the Bupps of Hampshire--the Fighting Bupps, as they were called. A sudden death in the family left him destitute at the early age of thirty, and he decided to take seriously to journalism for a living. That was twelve years ago. He is now a member of the Authors' Club; a popular after-dinner speaker in reply to the toast of Literature; and one of the best-paid writers in Fleet Street. Who's Who tells the world that he has a flat at Knightsbridge and a cottage on the river. If you ask him to what he owes his success he will assure you, with the conscious modesty of all great men, that he has been lucky; pressed further, that Hard Work and Method have been his watchwords. But to the young aspirant he adds that of course if you have it in you it is bound to come out.

I

When Annesley started journalism he realized at once that it was necessary for him to specialize in some subject. Of such subjects two occurred to him--"George Herbert" and "Trams." For a time he hesitated, and it was only the sudden publication of a brief but authoritative life of the poet which led him finally to the study of one of the least explored of our transit systems. Meanwhile he had to support himself. For this purpose he bought a roll-top desk, a typewriter, and an almanac; he placed the almanac on top of the desk, seated himself at the typewriter, and began.

It was the month of February; the almanac told him that it wanted a week to Shrove Tuesday. In four days he had written as many articles, entitled respectively Shrovetide Customs, The Pancake, Lenten Observances, and Tuesdays Known to Fame. The Pancake, giving as it did the context of every reference in literature to pancakes, was the most scholarly of the four; the Tuesday article, which hazarded the opinion that Rome may at least have been begun on a Tuesday, the most daring. But all of them were published.

This early success showed Annesley the possibilities of the topical article; it led him also to construct a revised calendar for his own use. In the "Bupp Almanac" the events of the day were put back a fortnight; so that, if the Feast of St Simon and St Jude fell upon the 17th, Annesley's attention was called to it upon the 3rd, and upon the 3rd he surveyed the Famous Partnerships of the epoch. Similarly, The Origin of Lord Mayor's Day was put in hand on October 26th.

He did not, however, only glorify the past; current events claimed their meed of copy. In the days of his dependence Annesley had travelled, so that he could well provide the local colour for such sketches as Kimberley as I Knew It (1901) and Birmingham by Moonlight (1903). His Recollections of St Peter's at Rome were hazy, yet sufficient to furnish an article with that title at the time of the Coronation. But I must confess that Dashes for the Pole came entirely from his invaluable Encyclopaedia....

II

Annesley Bupp had devoted himself to literature for two years before his first article on trams was written. This was called Voltage, was highly technical, and convinced every editor to whom it was sent (and by whom it was returned) that the author knew his subject thoroughly. So when he followed it up with How to be a Tram Conductor, he had the satisfaction not only of seeing it in print within a week, but of reading an editorial reference to himself as "the noted expert on our overhead system." Two other articles in the same paper--Some Curious Tram Accidents and Tram or Bus: Which?-- established his position.

Once recognized as the authority on trams, Bupp was never at a loss for a subject. In the first place there were certain articles, such as Tramways in 1904, Progress of Tramway Construction in the Past Year, Tramway Inventions of the Last Twelvemonth, and The Tram: Its Future in 1905, which flowed annually from his pen. From time to