"Oh--er--things like getting married," I said, "and refraining from
shooting little girls who ask questions."
I admit that this sort of joke is the last infirmity of an uncle's
otherwise noble mind. They regarded me sadly.
Then Lillah turned to Phyllis with a detached air. "Uncle James is being
grand," she said, "because he doesn't know what law is."
"Don't you?" said Phyllis.
"Perhaps not," I murmured feebly. The nursery makes very small beer of
the cynic. There was a moment's silence.
"You've told us wrong," said Phyllis sternly. "Daddy isn't ever wrong."
"So he's risen from his bar to be a sergeant," added Lillah, with the
air of one finishing a story with a moral.
I'm afraid I chuckled. It was in very bad taste, of course, but I
couldn't help it. I suppose George is one of the most egregious
Micawbers of the English Bar, whereas I---- why, I remember noticing a
brief on the mantelpiece in my chambers only last month.
"Poor Uncle James," said Phyllis in her best drawing-room tones,
"perhaps if you tried very hard----"
They had mistaken my laughter for that bitter disappointed kind you get
in the theatres.
"I know," said Lillah; "we'll play Germans, and Uncle James can pretend
he's a sergeant."
Yes, they were sorry for me. The table was pushed into the window and
became a waterworks of importance.
The invidious part of the alien enemy fell to Lillah. It was admitted
that she could glare best. "Besides," said Phyllis, "Lillah can make
growly noises come up from her tummy."
The complete Hun, as you perceive.
Phyllis became a "special," while I was her sergeant, the star part of
the piece. But the show was a frost, though Lillah gave an excellent
imitation, with the aid of a toy spider, of a Hun inserting bacilli into
the nation's _aqua pura_. Yes, I'm afraid I was the failure. I couldn't
get to grips with my part, and the whole thing was so obviously a
charity performance, with Phyllis ordering herself sternly about to try
and help me through.
We were halfway through the second house when a well-known step was
heard on the stairs.
Lillah turned, her eyes ablaze with worship. Phyllis trembled with
excitement. As I sat down I couldn't help thinking that we grown-ups are
just a little absurd. There is more than one thinks in the relativity of
things.
Adoration? George was never going to get anything like it again in this
world. My mind mused on ambition. Why, the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER
himself----
The door-handle turned and I heard the small voice of Phyllis in my ear.
"Mummie says," she whispered, "we can't all be great."
Nice little maid!
Then we all lined up to receive the Sergeant.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Mother._ "NO, BETTY DARLING, I CAN'T BUTTON YOUR BOOTS
FOR YOU. NOW YOU HAVE A LITTLE SISTER YOU MUST LEARN TO DO THINGS FOR
YOURSELF."
_Betty._ "SHALL I _ALWAYS_ HAVE TO DO FINGS FOR MYSELF?"
_Mother._ "YES, DARLING." _Betty._ "THEN I DON'T FINK
I SHALL LIKE LIFE."]
* * * * *
"TURKISH COMMUNIQUE.
Constantinople, Saturday.--On the Canadian front there were
outpost duels and local fighting at several points. These
skirmishes are still going on."--_Evening Paper._