"I wonder," he said thoughtfully, "if I shall ever find my tennis legs
again."
"Have you lost them?" I asked sarcastically.
"I'm afraid so--er--that is, of course, only one of them really."
"Only one of them?" I repeated vaguely.
"Yes, Fritzie got it at Jutland; but these new mark gadgets are
top-hole. I can nearly dance the fox-trot with mine already."
He stretched out the gadget in question and patted it affectionately.
The ensuing moment I count as the worst one I have ever known. I had
forgotten the Navy. My only excuse is that nowadays, owing to its urgent
and unadvertised affairs, we seldom have an opportunity in our village
of meeting the Senior Service. But I feel convinced that the irascible
Methuselah on the croquet ground was purposely and maliciously guilty of
_suppressio veri_.
* * * * *
[Illustration: "OLE BILL SEZ 'E 'ARDLY NEVER SEES 'IS MISSUS NAH."
"OH! 'OW'S THAT, THEN?"
"COS SHE'S ALL MORNIN' AN' ARTERNOON IN A SUGAR CUE, AND 'E'S ALL
EVENIN' IN A BEER CUE."]
* * * * *
"Wanted, good Man, to cut, make, and trim
specials.
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