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By Sidney Benson Thorp
159

"And what," he presently demanded, "might be the sense of this document?" producing, as he spoke, a crumpled scrap.

"I wanted particularly to see you," replied the poet, who lisped disagreeably.

"So much I gathered: the appeal is in the name of the Deity."

"It was urgent."

"Very. I expected to find serpents coiling round the chairs and a fat toad squatting on the mantel-piece. It is nothing of that kind?"

"Nothing, nothing," replied the other in a tone of distressful impatience.

"Well?"

The poet strained his eyes helplessly up and around, with difficulty disjoined his sticky lips, wrung his clammy hands together, and at last, in an insecure voice and with a singular hesitancy, asked:

"Are you fond of pictures?"

"No," rejoined Freddy, placidly; "but the first cousin of the wife of our gardener has a tame elephant."

"That is fortunate," answered Longton, suppressing with an effort the irritation which his friend's witticisms rarely failed to stir up. "Putting the elephant aside, however, for the moment the fact is, I am in a difficulty."

"My dear fellow, why couldn't you say so at once? 'What's the demned total?'"

A van, the property of the Midland Railway Company, had made rapid approach, and the dialogue had risen in proportion on a swift crescendo. At this moment Freddy made as if he were clinging for his life to a bucker. When the turmoil had partially subsided——

"A cheque won't serve," replied the poet, shaking his head sadly.


The Yellow Book—Vol. XIII.
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