My plan nearly went West, and I was nearly sent East. It was only the
Headquarters' stamp that turned the scale in my favour.
It was lucky for my friend that I ultimately got leave to help him
in his educational duties. Cleanly he is himself sadly lacking in the
very rudiments of official culture.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Magistrate_. "BUT WHAT WERE YOU DOING TO ALLOW A MAN
OF THE PRISONER'S PHYSIQUE TO GIVE YOU A BLACK EYE?"
_Constable_. "ON THE MORNING OF TOOSDAY, THE FIRST OF APRIL, YOUR
WORSHIP, I WAS ON DOOTY OUTSIDE THE 'DOOK OF WELLINGTON' PUBLIC-'OUSE,
WHEN, AT THE INSTIGATION OF THE PRISONER, MY ATTENTION WAS DRAWN TO
SOMETHIN' THAT WASN'T THERE. 'E THEN 'IT ME."]
* * * * *
THE LETTERS THAT COUNT.
["Meanwhile one sighs for the letters which do not
exist."--C.K.S., in "_The Sphere_."]
I never have felt any hunger,
Apart from my shortage of gold,
For the spoils of the autograph-monger,
The screeds of the sages of old;
By envy unvexed and unsmitten
I study the connoisseur's list,
But I sigh for the letters unwritten,
Or those that no longer exist.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53