"But, Alan darling, how beautiful! You've been trying for years and years
and now at last it has happened. I _do_ hope it isn't a mistake," said
Cecilia anxiously. She was trying to be nice, you know. I'm sure she was. I
went on with my breakfast.
"Well, John," said Cecilia, "can't you congratulate him, or are you too
jealous?"
John sighed deeply and pondered.
"Terrible how _Punch_ has gone down since our young days, isn't it?" he
said heavily.
* * * * *
I spent a miserable time until it appeared. Somehow or other Cecilia let
the great glad news get about the village. Farley, our newsagent and
tobacconist, held me when I went in for an ounce of the usual mild.
"So I 'ear you've 'ad a article printed by this 'ere _Punch_, Sir," he
said. "Somethink laughable it'd be, I suppose like, eh?"
"Not half," I said, striving hard to impersonate a successful humourist.
"Ah, well, it's all good for business," he said, as one who sees the silver
lining. "I've 'ad quite a number of orders for the paper for the next two
or three weeks."
I crept from the shop, only to meet an atrocious woman from "The Gables,"
who stopped me with a little shriek of joy.
"Oh, Mr. Jarvis, I've been dying to meet you, do you know. I always have
thought you so funny, ever since that little sketch you got up for the
Bazaar last summer. I said to my husband when I heard of your success,
'_I'm_ not surprised. After that sketch, _I knew_.' _Do_ tell me when it's
appearing. I'm sure I shall simply scream at it."
I escaped after a time and wondered whether it was too late to stop
publication of the horrible thing.
* * * * *
I came down to breakfast and found John with a copy beside him. I looked at
him.
"Yes," he said, "the worst has happened. It is in print. We have been
waiting for you to appear."
He turned the pages and cleared his throat.
"I shall now read the article aloud," he said. "Each time I raise my hand
the audience will please burst into hearty laughter."
Margery giggled.
"Cecilia," I said, rising, "if you don't control this reptile that you have
married, if you don't force him to hold his peace, if you allow him to read
one word, I'll throw the bread-knife at him and ... and pour my coffee all
over the tablecloth."
"John," said Cecilia, "have a little thought for others and read it quietly
to yourself."
Cecilia meant well, of course, but Margery giggled again.
John read it to himself in a dead silence, sighed heavily and passed it to
Margery.
"We shall never live it down," he said, putting his head into his hands and
gazing moodily at the marmalade.
Margery read it and giggled three or four times; but Margery giggles at
anything.
Cecilia read it and beamed.
"Alan, dear," she said, "it's lovely! Of _course_ they accepted it. John,
you wretch, say you liked it." (Cecilia can be a dear.)
"Well, if I must tell the truth," said John, "it isn't quite so bad as I
expected. In fact I very much doubt whether he wrote it at all. If he
did--well, it's a marvellous fluke, that's all."