"You may smile, swelled-head," said John; "but I'll bet you five golden
guineas to a bad tanner you couldn't do it again."
"Done," I said.
After a few days, however, I realised that I had made a mistake. Even a bad
sixpence is worth something nowadays.
Cecilia and Margery vied with each other in offering me the feeblest
suggestions for articles that they felt sure would reduce a rhinoceros to
hysterics. John presented me with a copy of _A Thousand and One Jokes and
Anecdotes_ "to prove he was a sportsman," he said. I started to look for a
bad sixpence.