Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 3).djvu/206

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The Queer Side of Things.

By J. F. Sullivan.


I T was just the day for a picnic, fine and balmy, and discounted by no probability of rain and hurricane; in fact, we had had a long spell of settled weather—nearly a day and a half—so we were all in good spirits.

We had selected a beautiful landing-place on the bank of the Thames, and had the additional advantage of the shadow of a large notice-board—a board declaring the land, river, air, sky, clouds, and other articles around and above, to be the private property of someone or other, and warning strangers not to land, fish, breathe, exist, or otherwise trespass near the spot. The shadow of this board served nicely to keep the rays of the sun from the butter and champagne. We only regretted that Moozeby had not been able to join us.

We were preparing to sit down to our repast, when Pinniger, looking toward the "table," expressed a fear that a mist was rising from the ground just at that spot. It really seemed so, although the place we had chosen for laying the cloth on had been selected on account of its apparent dryness. Yet there was a small patch of mist, rapidly increasing in density; so, deciding that there must be a small morass just there, we prepared to move the eatables to another place.

Pinniger thereupon stretched forth his hand to seize the dish of lobsters, and withdrew it with a strange expression of face; he examined his hand: "It's the densest mist I ever came across!" he muttered; "I can feel it—feels like cotton-wool!"

Then Maud Wimble-Pinniger's affianced tried to reach the pie, and drew back her hand with a little shriek. "What is it?" she cried in a scared way; "I don't like it! I can hardly get my hand through it! Look, look! It seems to have a shape!"

We had turned green now, and were standing in a ring, staring open-mouthed at the patch of fog. It did seem to have a shape certainly.

Joe Button, who was a stolid, heavy fellow, without any nerves, had another try at it; he tried to get at the butter, and did succeed in getting the point of a finger some little way in, but drew it back hastily