Fishpingle found the page and the clipping. He put on his spectacles.
“Hurry up,” enjoined the Squire. “What an old dodderer!”
Fishpingle began:
“Under date April the first——”
“Is this a stupid joke, Ben?”
“That happens to be the date, Sir Geoffrey. The article was written by you some fifteen years ago.”
“Um! Ancient history. I refuse to accept unqualified responsibility for what I wrote fifteen years ago.”
Lionel laughed. He felt that the tension was relieved.
“I say—play cricket, father!”
“Cricket? How the doose, boy, can you remember what I wrote when you were a lad of ten?”