"Well, the theory's smashed, anyhow," said John decisively, "and so's my fence."
"No! no! I won't hear of it," laughed Brown; "I admit the fence, but not the theory. You see," he went on, turning to Mrs. Robinson, "I've always insisted, as Smith knows, that there's plenty of landing space in his paddock, provided you do it up wind. The fact is I glided in to-night from east to west. Thought I should be dead head on; but I believe I was a couple of points out in my reckoning and so failed to bring the old 'bus to a stand short of the fence. You know, Smith," he added, with an injured air, "you ought to have a wind-pointer rigged up so's there'd be no doubt about it."
"Just to encourage reckless old gentlemen to smash up my premises, I suppose," retorted John. "But I admit I found some consolation for my smashed fence when I observed the pathetic appearance of your under carriage, after your famous landing."
"And now," said Millie to Mr. Brown, "all will be forgotten and forgiven if you'll come into the drawing-room and let Mr. and Mrs. Robinson hear you sing that jolly song about
"'Come and have a flip
In a big H Pip,' etc.
"You know."
"The egg shortage notwithstand, the Easter egg rolling carnival at Preston, which dates back to mediaeval times, was, after a lapse of four years, celebrated with great musto."
Midland Paper.
Pre-war eggs, apparently.