I have a friend who is a Special Constable. He has had an experience
which by no means casts any discredit upon him; but he would rather not
write about it himself, he says; so I take up the pen on his behalf.
My friend is an artist, and as such is accustomed to use his eyes. The
other day he saw a smartly dressed man whom he conceived to be a German
spy, for, besides wearing an alien aspect, he carried a walking-stick
which tapered suspiciously on the way down, and near the top of it was
an obvious little catch. "A sword stick!" said the Special Constable to
himself.
He followed the man. The man ultimately entered the purlieus of a police
station and joined a queue of exotics who were waiting to be registered.
The Special Constable then accosted a pukka Police Inspector who was
standing at the door and explained his suspicion as to the walking-stick
and its probable contents. The Police Inspector also thought there might
be something in it. He beckoned to the German. The alien enemy,
trembling palpably, came up to him.
"Any arms?" asked the Inspector.
"No," replied the alien enemy, still trembling.
"Undo the catch of that stick," commanded the Inspector. With fumbling
fingers the alien enemy did so--and drew forth a silk umbrella.
* * * * *
Illustration: _First Golfer_ (_to friend who has come from a distance
to play with him_). "BUT, MY DEAR CHAP, WHERE ARE YOUR CLUBS?"
_Second Golfer._ "HUSH! NOT A WORD! I'VE GOT 'EM DISGUISED IN HERE."
* * * * *