"Yes, Sir. Do you want a case for the secret-jointed cue only, or a case for your whole kit?"
"My whole kit?"
"Your complete set of cues, Sir."
"Never heard of such a thing."
"I assure you, Sir, that all the best people go in for sets—just as with golf, Sir. This is a complete set; the whole, including the case, for ten guineas." And he showed me a long green-lined mahogany box containing foreign-looking cues (in addition to a secret-jointed one) packed as carefully as a set of drawing instruments.
"Would you mind explaining this mystery box to me?" I asked.
"Certainly, Sir," said the obliging young man. "This set of cues has been designed for the billiard player who spends his summer on the golf links and comes back in the autumn to billiards with the golf-habit highly developed. That is, the habit acquired on the links of using different clubs for the various shots. Now this cue—"
"Oh, that, of course, is an ordinary cue," I interrupted. "Never mind that one; introduce me to the others."
"Pardon me, Sir, it only looks like an ordinary cue. A steel tube has been inserted down its interior—"
"Do I understand that billiard cues have also taken to hunger-striking?"