A smarter or a "faster" man,
But none in "uplift" could compare
With truly yours,
Charles Masterman.
ALONZO.
It was a bright Monday morning in September, and I was doing my usual patter dance in the dressing-room, striving to defeat the time-table—ten minutes for breakfast and five minutes to get to the station.
I dipped hurriedly into the collar-drawer, drew one forth, inverted it, cast a tie (Wadham Wanderers, E. team) into the parting and proceeded to secure the arrangement. The back stud operated without comment, but when I came to the front there seemed to be an inch or two of collar missing. At first I looked at it with mild surprise, then the horrible truth flashed through me.
I dashed into Joe's room.
"Look here," I exclaimed, "just look at my neck!"