and, perhaps, a super-excellent those members of her sex who sleep. She despises you more attempted any criticism of the if you return in the evening quality of our catch. empty-handed. She aims at getting the record catch of the day. The gillies, too, get tainted with this gross desire. For a time we could keep ours in check, but one day he put it to us that it was a matter of honour for his boat to bring in at least some trout. Thereupon we did our best. We had a 9-inch measure, we carefully measured every trout, and everything under the regulation nine inches went back to the water. In the end we secured a great success. The catch of the day was ours, and where others came in with two and three, we came in with one dozen and four. It was the custom at that particular hotel for mine host to meet the motor brake bringing back the fishers, and to question each severely as to the day's catch, his daughters standing by with a large dish to receive the trout. One glance at my respected wife brought back all the training painfully learned under a Hun offensive, and I knew that I could safely leave affairs in her hands. I saw that the only plan for me was to slip quietly through the hall and upstairs to our sitting-room, where I could smoke a cigarette and picture the scene below. My wife had taken up a determined stand beside that dish. She assisted mine host to count the fish, and in a few wellchosen words she dealt with When it became known that we were leaving the hotel, an enthusiastic motoring couple, realising that our exit from the wilds of the West Highlands would not be easy, intimated that they had to go along the same road, and suggested that if we did not mind they might start a little before us. At every dangerous corner and hill we found those faithful friends waiting patiently until we hove in sight so that they could give us a friendly warning. The Ford behaved extremely well. For four days she only required oil, petrol, and water. On the last lap we took a saddle-backed bridge with much courage and little skill. The penalty was not recognised at the time; it was only when taking a cargo of human beings out to our country home that a broken back spring was revealed. In turning a narrow corner the car suddenly decided on a course of her own. This little display of temper led to our parting with the Ford, and she was passed to the local dealer in part payment for a nobler representative of her class. A new car has always a peculiar fascination. With it come statistics to show how many miles per gallon of spirit and oil it can run. The innocent will believe these statistics, and spend many hours calculating the amount of petrol in his tank and the number of miles he has run. The day came when an official order sent me off to the metropolis. With all due respect to the delights of that city, the prospect of keeping a big car in town did not appeal to me. She was accordingly stored, and an attempt was The ex- again, and asked leave to go made to get a cheap second-hand car in town. Dealers are expert disbelievers in the truth, but while the working, testing, and bargaining are going on they are your dearest friends, and you are promised a new heaven and earth. My heaven quickly passed when my partner and I set out on a short tour in the car we had just acquired, which was no doubt cheap. We started on that tour with confidence, the parting words of our insinuating friend being, "This little beauty will take you anywhere!" As we crawled with great care through one of the parks a uniformed official held up his hand and peered first at our number and then at our faces. It appeared that we were emitting a foul smoke in a place where that was not permitted. We apologised humbly, promised never to do it Keith. Here one sees the meeting of East and West, and it is not always comforting to one who has served for a considerable period in the East. The train journey back is no less interesting if one is in the mood to look at things with a kindly eye. A wellkept cricket pitch and the tennis-courts just outside Orecall younger days. The Molassine poultry-farm might be mistaken for a series of modern, well-ventilated, well-lighted suburban villas. Farther along there is a seed-grower's nursery with ideal miniature golfcourses laid out-golf-courses that rouse the desire to become a champion, or for the days of retirement to come in sight. Maidenhead is passed, and one sees a pleasing picture: the sight of healthy young men and women enjoying the pleasures that a river such as the Thames can give. Farther on a well-known name catches the eye, and one recalls with a smile the dark and gloomy days of 1914, when the officers and men of the British Expeditionary Force, tired of battle, and tired of trenches, were still more tired of plum-and-apple jam. Near this famous factory is situated an equally famous firm dealing principally in antiseptics and vermicides. It, too, was not passed without a smile, called up by the recollection of a hardened old Scottish soldier, who, during an intensive bombardment, happened to be busily engaged catching those little grey animals that have a predilection for one's underclothing and for performing gymnastics over the anterior portion of one's anatomy. The mere act of picking one of these animals off the back of his neck saved his life. He expressed his thanks thus "I'm no blooming Haig, so I canna decorate you, and I'm no blankety blank colonel, so I canna promote you; but I'll treat you as a man, so back ye go and hae a damned guid feed!" At last we drew into Paddington. Our troubles were not yet over, for the train had been crowded, and the number of taxis was limited; but patience was rewarded in the end, and we were rapidly conveyed to our home, tired, but, in spite of all, amused with our day. A MIXED BAG. BY X. It was while on our way to put his sayings into practice that J. and I found that we had time to kill at a somnolent little Indian railway station. There it sat very solid and very trim as compared with the slatternly mud village close to it. Around it lay a great flat sea of young wheat and barley. Above were the neverclouded blue winter sky and the always shining, kindly, winter sun. The blue rock-pigeons cooed a lullaby, the telegraph in the station-master's office muttered in its sleep, and the station dozed. It was under the mistaken idea that we were going to catch a train by a hair's-breadth that we dashed into the station, shattering its noonday repose, and fluttering all its dovecots. The pigeons rushed from theirs, and Mr Hurree Narth I. (I spell him phonetically) rolled quivering from his. A vast man this Mr Narth, once an aspirant for the degree of Bachelor of Arts at one of our too numerous Indian universities, and now writing a large "B.A." after his name and a very small "fail" after the "B.A.” In this way Mr Narth notifies modestly to the world that he has at least had a jolly good try, although, judging by his English, he must have failed by a wideish margin. Hurree Narth is the stationmaster, and is upholstered in a pink loin-cloth and an upper garment of muslin. No more unmasculine dress could possibly be devised by man for man, but then its wearer is not manly. He is out of Bengal, where there aren't any men, but only soft chocolatecoloured things with great brains, little understanding, and no valour whatever. On his head and concealing the single lock of hair without which no good Hindu can gain Paradise, is a velvet pork-pie cap of distressing aspect and figured in green. He wears white socks and patent-leather, elastic-sided shoes, adorned with sham mother-of-pearl buttons. Between rim of socks and hem of loin-cloth is an undulatory expanse of chocolate leg. Benevolent spectacles, with a twinkle behind them, complete the station-master's outfit. If you add him up aright, he should come out a combination of Mr Pickwick and the Friar of Copmanhurst, without the virility of either. Indeed, he makes no pretence to it. When the last ripples caused by our sudden onset have died from Mr Narth's corpulent body, and when he has settled down again into his natural dimples and creases and folds, he explains that he has taken us for British soldiers, of whom he obviously stands in mortal terror. For Thomas Atkins has a short way with him. He calls a spade a spade, a black man a nigger, and holds that the superiority of white over black is a fact beyond all reasonable argument. Sometimes one almost wonders whether Atkins isn't right. Mr Hurree Narth is not exaggerating when he beams on us and says, "I thinking your honours are English soldiers. I am personally pretty cowardly fellow. These are very terrible men, moreover. Their dogs also very terrible. Always biting black peoples." We need have been in no such hurry. "Sir," said the station-master, referring to our train, "she is late. Perhaps one hour late. Perhaps two hours, moreover. God Almighty knowing." Naturally we asked Hurree Narth what he proposed to do with us for the credit of his station. By thus throwing ourselves on his better nature and bringing to the surface all that was best there, we did a wise thing. He was at first full of the dreariest suggestions. "Some gentlemen walking on platforms." "Some gentlemen reading time-tables." "Some gentlemen looking at sceneries." We told him that we weren't like any of these gentlemen, and that he must try again. He appeared damped, but hope and kindliness still beamed in those large spectacles. At last he called our attention to the pigeons. Although his religion forbade his either killing or eating them, he was no bigot in these matters. As a matter of fact, he had of late been suffering, "Sir, from rumblings in belly." As also had Mrs Narth. Consequently, and strictly medicinally, neither he nor his lady would be averse to trying a little pigeon-meat for their stomachs' sake. we said, "Lead on." So After summoning a lampcleaner and a signalman, to whom he referred as my menial staff," he took us to the station grain-sheds, where the pigeons battened on spilt grain. Here we had a hot fifteen minutes, and then there were no more. Menial staff now armed themselves with fragments of the permanent way, and we were taken to a large well and asked to look in. After the bright |