At this moment John came into the room. "Talking about the 'Merry
Maggots'?" he said. "Splendid idea of Cecilia's, isn't it? I've just
been thinking it over, and what we must decide on first of all is who
is to be the--the humourist. He's the really important man; must be
someone really first-class."
"We've also been discussing it," I said quickly, "and we came to the
conclusion that there's only one man for the job--yourself."
John nodded complacently.
"I'm glad to hear you say so, because I was going to suggest it
myself. It's my belief that I should be a devilish funny fellow if I
had a chance. I've just tried a few jokes on myself upstairs, and I've
been simply roaring with laughter. Haven't enjoyed myself so much for
years."
"Splendid fellow!" I said heartily; "you shall tell them to me later
on and I'll roar with laughter too. Cecilia, put your husband down for
the funny man."
"H'm--humourist," corrected John with a slight cough.
"'Humourist,'" I agreed; "and thank goodness that's settled."
"But," said Cecilia, "you said you were going to do a dramatic
recitation."
"So I am, so I am," said John; "I'm going to do that as well.
Contrast, my dear Cecilia. Laughter and tears. Double them up with
sly wit one moment and have them sobbing into their handkerchiefs the
next. I'm going to do it all, Cecilia."
"So it appears," said Cecilia; "it hardly seems worth while to have
anybody else in the show."
"Now, now," said John, wagging his forefinger at her, "no jealousy.
You ought to be glad to have someone really good in the party. _Good_
funny men aren't to be found just anywhere."
"But we don't know that you _are_ a good funny man," said Margery.
"Of course you don't," said John; "I've never had a chance to prove
it. For years I have been kept in the background by your family. I'm
never allowed to make a joke, and if I do nobody laughs. This is my
chance. I'm going to be in the limelight now. I shall be the life of
the party, and it's no good trying to stop me. In fact," he finished
confidentially, "I shan't be surprised if I take it up professionally.
You should have heard me laughing upstairs."
"But, John," began Margery.
"Sh--!" said Cecilia; "it's no use arguing with him while he's in this
mood. That's all right, John. You shall be everything you like. But
as you've selected such a lot of parts for yourself perhaps you'll
suggest what we can do with Alan."
"Ah," said John; "Alan! Yes, he's a problem, certainly. If he had
any voice, now. I'm not sure that we want him at all. Could he do a
clog-dance, do you think?"
"Don't worry," I interrupted; "I've thought of a fine part for me. All
the best concert parties have a chap who sits in the corner and does
nothing but look miserable. I could do that splendidly."
"That's quite true," said John approvingly; "it tickles the audience,
you know, to see a fellow looking glum while everyone else is having
hysterics at the funny--at the humourist. It isn't as easy as it
looks, though, Alan. I shall keep saying things to make you laugh, you
know. You'll find it jolly difficult to keep looking miserable once
I get going."
"Not at all," I said. "That is, I shall do my best to keep serious.
I shall try not to listen to you being funny."
John looked at me and considered whether it was worth following up. He
decided it was not.
"I daresay he'll do," he said loftily to Cecilia; "the fellow has no
sense of humour anyway."
* * * * *
[Illustration: "So long, old chap! I'm off to Charing Cross."
"Hospital, I presume."]
* * * * *
Commercial Modesty.
"This system develops such valuable qualities as:--
--Forgetfulness
--Mind Wandering
--Brain Fag
--Indecision
--Dullness
--Shyness
--Timidity
--Weakness of Will
--Lack of System
--Lack of Initiative
--Indefiniteness
--Mental Flurry."
_Advt. in Sunday Paper_.
* * * * *
"It is announced that, starting with next week, 'Ways and means'
and 'Common Sense' will be amalgamated."
_Evening Paper_.
Will the Government please note?
* * * * *
"Army biscuits, suitable for bed-chair cushions. 3s. reserve.
----'s Auction Sale."
_Provincial Paper_.
They seem to have lost something of their war-time hardihood.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Small Boy._ "I SAY, ISN'T THERE ANYTHING WITH A BIT
MORE BUCK IN IT THAN THIS LEMONADE?"]
* * * * *