"May I call your attention to this, Sir?" he said.
I gazed at the notice like a fish:—
"ONLY CHILDREN ARE ALLOWED
ON THE BED OF THE LAKE."
It is still there; you can go and see it for yourself. I argued, I entreated. Either the constable had a sense of humour (and should be reported) or else a perverted sense of duty.
A crowd collected. Out of the corner of my eye I could see those two best frocks.
"As usual," I said bitterly but with dignity, "the British Government is too late."
By the time I had persuaded the children that tea was superior to sand castles their clothes—but no, why repeat what Margaret said? I'm sure she regretted it when I had gone.
But my reputation as an uncle of any technical knowledge is finished.
I was so moved that I even forgot my gift to St. Bartholomew's after tea—and now I am writing a personal letter to Mr. Samuel about that notice in the Park.