"WHY ARE YOU HOLDING UP," HE SAID,
"THIS VERY FERTILE LAND?"
"First?" he asked.
"Oh yes," said I. "I have seen you more than once. Surely you haven't forgotten that time at Watford?"
He felt that I had the advantage of him. "When was that?" he asked.
"Not very long after the first time; and the next occasion I remember seeing you was at a place called—called—something beginning with a B."
He was quite unable to cope with the situation.
"And the next time," I continued, "I happened to be passing through that town where the school is—you know, Rugby. I distinctly recollect noticing then that you hadn't changed in the least since I last saw you."
He couldn't decide whether to be more flattered at my remembering or more annoyed at his own forgetting.