"Why didn't yer?"

"'Cause I hadn't got it."

"Would yer if yer 'ad?"

"Not me."

"Why wouldn't yer?"

"'Cause 'e was only a kiddin'."

"'Ow d'ye know 'e was only a kiddin'?"

"Anyone could tell 'e was."

"Them other parties couldn't tell 'e was."

"That's their look out."

"'Ere's a bloke what's going to earn 'arfa-quid----"

"'E warn't going to earn no 'arf-a-quid no more than you are."

"If I wanted yer to lend me ninepence, would yer lend it me?"

"No."

"Why wouldn't yer?"

"'Cause I 'aven't got it."

"You never don't seem to 'ave nothink."

"I 'ave as much as you, perhaps, once in a while."

"I've just stood yer 'arf a pint."

"And I've stood you 'arf a pint more than once, and more than twice."

"I don't say you 'aven't." The original speaker turned to me. "If a friend was to ask you to lend 'im ninepence, wouldn't you lend it 'im?

"That would depend on whether I had it."

"You, being a gentleman, of course you would have it."

I had finished my ale. I sidled towards the door.

"I fear that does not necessarily follow."

The man advanced.

"Look 'ere, if I was to ask you to lend me ninepence----"

"Excuse me. I'm afraid I must be off."

And I was off.

I have a moral conviction that if I had stayed much longer that man would have tried to wriggle ninepence out of me.

A Battlefield Up-to-Date

I said to Nowell at the time that I didn't altogether like the notion.

He seemed astonished.

"I thought you stipulated for something both novel and surprising?"

"Yes," I admitted, "I did. But I do not want the roof blown off. I don't want either the novelty or the surprise to go so far as that.

This is an evening party, Nowell. The persons present will be friends of mine."

Nowell was sarcastic--almost rude. He appeared to be of opinion that "A Battlefield Up-to-Date, with Realistic Ill.u.s.trations and Experiments," was just the theme for a drawing-room lecture.

"Steingard," he observed, "is an enthusiast--a man in a million. Think of the kudos it will bring you to have the ideas of a man like that first given to the world upon your premises--your party'll be immortal. Steingard's theories will revolutionise the art of warfare--they'll amaze you."

Steingard was the individual who was going to lecture. I never saw him before that fatal night--and I've never seen him since. He had better let me catch him.

I did not mention to my wife what was to be the lecturer's theme until the actual morning of the appointed day--I had had my qualms all through. She at once remarked that the party would have to be postponed--or the lecture. She was not going to have cannons let off in her drawing-room--nor dynamite either. Was I insane? or was I merely a senseless idiot? Did I not know that the mere explosion of a pistol at the theatre brought her to the verge of hysterics? Did I or did anyone else suppose that machine-guns discharging two thousand shots a minute could be fired with impunity at her guests? Was that my notion of an evening party? If so, perhaps I had better let the people know before they came.

I a.s.sured her that there would not be any machine-guns nor dynamite--nor, indeed, anything of the kind. Nowell had given me his word of honour that there would be no explosives of any sort. What there would be I did not know, but I had obtained a distinct guarantee that there would be nothing to "go off." Still, I went to Nowell to tell him I thought that perhaps after all the lecture had better be put off. Only as he turned out to be out of town, and I didn't know Steingard's address, I felt that all I could do would be to hope for the best.

If I had had the faintest shadow of a notion of what that best would be!

As soon as the guests began to arrive I perceived that the little programme I had arranged to open the evening with was not altogether relished.

"Well, Mr. Parker," asked Mrs. Griffin, as I met her at the door, "what are you going to give us this time to amuse us till the dancing begins? Your ideas are always so original. Last year you gave us that beautiful little play."

"And this year I am going to give you something novel and surprising.

The distinguished scientist, Steingard, will give you a vivid impressionistic picture of a battle up-to-date, as it will exist under conditions created by himself."

"Oh!" She looked a trifle blank. "And where is he going to give it us--in here?"

She glanced round the room, as if she felt that, for an exhibition of that particular kind, s.p.a.ce was a little restricted. I admitted to myself that the apartment was getting filled. My wife's mother became quite excited directly she heard what was about to take place.

"My goodness gracious, Henry," she exclaimed, "whatever do you mean?

You know I am so sensitive that I cannot bear the slightest allusion to war and bloodshed. I shall insist on remaining in Louisa's bedroom till all is over."