The Colonel took off his burnished top-hat and gravely placed it on the head of the South Sea idol at his feet. It had a queer effect of bringing the grotesque lump of stone to life, as if a goblin in a top-hat was grinning at the garden.
“You think the hat shouldn’t be quite new?� he inquired almost anxiously. “Not done among the best scarecrows, perhaps. Well, let’s see what we can do to mellow it a little.�
He whirled up his walking-stick over his head and laid a smacking stroke across the silk hat, smashing it over the hollow eyes of the idol.
“Softened with the touch of time now, I think,� he remarked, holding out the silken remnants to the gardener. “Put it on the scarecrow, my friend; I don’t want it. You can bear witness it’s no use to me.�
Archer obeyed like an automaton, an automaton with rather round eyes.
“We must hurry up,� said the Colonel cheerfully, “I was early for church, but I’m afraid I’m a bit late now.�
“Did you propose to attend church without a hat, sir?� asked the other.
“Certainly not. Most irreverent,� said the Colonel. “Nobody should neglect to remove his hat on entering church. Well, if I haven’t got a hat, I shall neglect to remove it. Where is your reasoning power this morning? No, no, just dig up one of your cabbages.�
Once more the well-trained servant managed to repeat the word “Cabbages� with his own strict accent; but in its constriction there was a hint of strangulation.
“Yes, go and pull up a cabbage, there’s a good fellow,� said the Colonel. “I must really be getting along; I believe I heard it strike eleven.�