It becomes us all to make at least one effort to brighten cricket.
UNCLE EDWARD
Celia has more relations than would seem possible. I am gradually getting to know some them by sight and a few more by name, but I still make mistakes. The other day, for instance, she happened to say she was going to a concert with Uncle Godfrey.
"Godfrey," I said, "Godfrey. No, don't tell me—I shall get it in a moment. Godfrey ... Yes, that's it; he's the architect. He lives at Liverpool, has five children, and sent us the asparagus-cooler as a wedding present."
"No marks," said Celia.
"Then he's the unmarried one in Scotland who breeds terriers. I knew I should get it."
"As a matter of fact he lives in London and breeds oratorios."
"It's the same idea. That was the one I meant. The great point is that I placed him. Now give me another one." I leant forward eagerly.