TRYING ON.
"I am going to London," I said.
"Going to London?" said the lady of the house. "What for?"
"To live a double life," I said. "Many men do it and are never found out till they have been dead quite a long time. I'm going to begin to-day, and first I'm going to call on my tailor."
"But you can't call on your tailor in those clothes."
"Why not?" I said. "He made the clothes, and the least he can do is to look at them after I've worn them all these years."
"Dad's going to London in his old brown suit," said Helen to Rosie, who had just entered the room.
"Oh, but he simply can't," said Rosie in a shocked voice.
"I like the suit," said Peggy. "The trousers are so funny."
"They do bag at the knees," I admitted. "But then all sincere and honourable trousers do that. There is, of course, an unmanly variety that never bags and always keeps a crease down its middle, but you wouldn't have me wear those—now would you?"
"You can wear what you like," said the lady of the house, "so long as you don't wear what you've got on."
"Well," I said with dignity, "I'm not the man to insult an old friend. I shall wear this suit, and, what's more, I shall get my hair cut, too."
"That's right; get yourself cropped like a convict."
"You ought to be proud," I said, "to have a husband who's got any hair to crop. Some husbands are quite bald."
"And some want to look as if they were quite bald."
"Very well," I said, "I will give up the hair-cutting. Next week you shall see me in love-locks for the rest of my life."
I then went up-stairs and changed into patent leather boots, black tail coat and all that is necessarily associated with a black tail coat. This costume I completed with a top hat extracted from its dim and dusty lair, a dark overcoat, a walking-stick and a pair of gloves. Thus attired I set out for the station.
In the garden I found the junior members of the family gathered together to escort me. When they saw me they assumed an air of profound solemnity and doffed imaginary hats in my honour.
"He's got his Londons on after all," said Peggy, thus lightly alluding to my serious garments.
"Will his lordship deign to take my humble arm?" said Rosie.
"John," said Helen brightly, "run on, there's a good boy, and see if they've got out the red carpet. We must certainly knight the station-master."
They then formed up as a festal band—mostly big drums—and preceded me to the garden gate, where they scattered and left me with a final cheer.
At about 3 o'clock in the afternoon I found myself in the West-end—not, of course, in the whole of it, but in that particular part of it where my tailor has his establishment. Up to that moment I had been eager to see him, but now that I stood before his door all desire had vanished just as a toothache disappears when you get almost within forceps distance of a dentist. However I encouraged myself. "These clothes," I said, "have been waiting for months in a half-sewn state and with makeshift button-holes. They must be put out of their misery. It's to-day or never."
My entrance was warmly welcomed: "Try on? Yes, Sir. I'll call Mr. Thurgood. Will you step in here, Sir?"
I stepped in through a door in a glass partition and found myself in the familiar torture-chamber. The old coloured plates of distinguished gentlemen in dazzling uniforms still hung on the walls. Their trouser-knees didn't bulge an inch. They fitted into their suits as wine fits into a decanter. Why couldn't I be like that? Also there were the looking-glasses artfully arranged to show you your profile or your back, a morbid and detestable revelation of the unsuspected.
"You're quite a stranger, Sir," said Mr. Thurgood, coming briskly into the room, accompanied by a transitory acolyte bearing clothes. "Shall we try the blue serge first?"
"No, Mr. Thurgood," I said, "we will first talk about uniforms. Could you make me a uniform like that?" I pointed to an expressionless person tightly wedged into a dark blue dress.
"An Elder Brother of the Trinity House," said Mr. Thurgood. "I did not know—am I to congratulate? Of course we shall be proud to do it for you."
"Well, perhaps not yet, Mr. Thurgood. We must wait and see—ha-ha—wait and see, you know. Let us get on with the blue serge." I took off my coat and waistcoat.
"Let me help you with the trousers," said Mr. Thurgood. "They'll come off quite easily over the boots." They did, and I caught a glimpse of my undergarment as they came off, and clapped my hands on my knees. Why had I not noticed this before? Each knee was picturesquely darned in an elaborately cross-hatched pattern.
"I don't think," I said, "we'll worry about the trousers. I can take them on trust."
"Do you really think so, Sir? It's a difficult leg to fit, you know. Plenty of muscle here and there. Not like some. You set us a task. There's a good deal to contend against in a thigh like yours."
"That's it," I cried with enthusiasm. "You can't do yourself justice unless you've got lots to contend against. I shall make it harder for you if I don't try on, and your triumph will be all the more glorious."
"It's a curious thing," said Mr. Thurgood, looking meditatively at my hands; "I've got just such another patch of darning on my knee," and he pulled up his trouser. "It's funny how you forget to notice a little thing like that."
"In that case," I said, "we will proceed with the trying on," and I removed my hands. "I've got two of them, you see."
"So have I," said Mr. Thurgood. "They generally go together."
R. C. L.
From a story in The Pall Mall Gazette:—
"'Willie was right,' he muttered. 'The evil men do live after them. The good oft lies interred in their bones, but maybe it was only folly with me, not evil.'"
Willie was certainly right, but that's not exactly how (in Julius Cæsar) he put it.
"When the men went to the scale, the Welshman was found to be half-a-pound over the stipulated 8st., but he was allowed time to get this off, and just before three o'clock he passed the weight, while Ladbury weighed 7st. 14 1/4 lb."—Yorkshire Post.
Rather bad luck on the Welshman, who had been sprinting madly round the arena for some hours with eight ounces which nobody wanted, to find afterwards that Ladbury's extra four ounces were entirely ignored.
"Since tea the crowd had swelled considerably."
South African News.
An air of dough-nuts hangs over this sentence.
The Lady. "Hallo, Count! What's happened?"
The Count (who has come off at the third obstacle). "Once I jump and my horse he catch me; then I jump and he only catch me a little; anozer time I jump and he miss me altogezer."