"There you are," I said, "'Raspberry--1909.' Mine's
'Gooseberry-1911,' a rotten vintage. And look at my book, Alone on
the Prairie; and you've got The Mormon's Wedding. No wonder I
couldn't do it."
I refused to try it again as I didn't think I was being treated
fairly; and after Bob and Miss Power had had a race at it, which Bob
won, we got on to something else.
"Of course you can pick a pin out of a chair with your teeth?" said
Miss Power.
"Not properly," I said. "I always swallow the pin."
"I suppose it doesn't count if you swallow the pin," said Miss Power
thoughtfully.
"I don't know. I've never really thought about that side of it much.
Anyhow, unless you've got a whole lot of pins you don't want, don't
ask me to do it to-night."
Accordingly we passed on to the water-trick. I refused at this, but
Miss Power went full length on the floor with a glass of water
balanced on her fore-head and came up again without spilling a
single drop. Personally, I shouldn't have minded spilling a single
drop; it was the thought of spilling the whole glass that kept me
back. Anyway, it is a useless trick, the need for which never arises
in an ordinary career. Picking up The Times with the teeth, while
clasping the left ankle with the right hand, is another matter. That
might come in useful on occasions; as, for instance, if having lost
your left arm on the field and having to staunch with the right hand
the flow of blood from a bullet wound in the opposite ankle, you
desired to glance through the Financial Supplement while waiting for
the ambulance.
"Here's a nice little trick," broke in Bob, as I was preparing
myself in this way for the German invasion.
He had put two chairs together, front to front, and was standing
over them--a foot on the floor on each side of them, if that conveys
it to you. Then he jumped up, turned round in the air, and came down
facing the other way.
"Can YOU do it?" I said to Miss Power.
"Come and try," said Bob to me. "It's not really difficult."
I went and stood over the chairs. Then I moved them apart and walked
over to my hostess.
"Good-bye," I said; "I'm afraid I must go now."
"Coward!" said somebody, who knew me rather better than the others.
"It's much easier than you think," said Bob.
"I don't think it's easy at all," I protested. "I think it's
impossible."
I went back and stood over the chairs again. For some time I waited
there in deep thought. Then I bent my knees preparatory to the
spring, straightened them up, and said:
"What happens if you just miss it?"
"I suppose you bark your shins a bit."
"Yes, that's what I thought."
I bent my knees again, worked my arms up and down, and then stopped
suddenly and said:
"What happens if you miss it pretty easily?"
"Oh, YOU can do it, if Bob can," said Miss Power kindly.
"He's practised. I expect he started with two hassocks and worked up
to this. I'm not afraid but I want to know the possibilities. If
it's only a broken leg or two, I don't mind. If it's permanent
disfigurement I think I ought to consult my family first."