The English Illustrated Magazine/An April Holiday

AN APRIL HOLIDAY
By PHIL ROBINSON.
I HAD no one to make an April Fool of, for I was all alone in the country with my work. So I made an April Fool of my work.
Over-night I carefully arranged my books on my table, freshened up the inkstand with a little more ink, laid out all my pens in a row, and put on the very middle of the blotting-paper (a nice new clean sheet on the top) a tempting little pile of scribbling paper. Then I turned down the lamps and began to knock the ashes out of my pipe.
"He always does this overnight," said the fat, little, old, conceited inkstand to a new quill-pen, "when he is going to work extra hard next day. What a time you will have! Scratch, scratch, scratch!"
"Shall I?" said the new quill pen. "What shall I do?"
"Oh, you'll see soon enough!" said the inkstand in a tone of voice that made the clean sheet of blotting-paper feel so uncomfortable all over that it turned pinker than ever. "And now I'm going to sleep. We'll have a hard day of it to-morrow, and I shall have to keep my lid open from morning till night. Oh, you'll see!" And then the inkstand shut down its lid with an obstinate little snap, and they all went to sleep.
I heard all this as pl

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