which is shortly to take place in aid of a charitubulorganisation
connection with a body of men to ’oom you as a nouse’older will----”
“Do you believe in palmists?”
“No, sir---- be the first to admit that you owe the safety of your
person and the tranquillity of your ’ome--the police.”
“Well, let me tell you this,” said Sam warmly: “Some time ago a palmist
told me that I was shortly about to be married, and I am shortly about
to be married.”
“Wish you luck, sir. Then perhaps I can ’ave the pleasure of selling you
and your good lady to be a couple of tickets for this concert in aid of
the Policemen’s Orphanage. Tickets, which may be ’ad in any quantity,
consist of the five-shilling ticket----”
“Are you married?”
“Yes sir---- the three-shilling ticket, the half-crown ticket, the
shilling ticket, and the sixpenny ticket.”
“It’s the only life, isn’t it?” said Sam.
“That of the policeman, sir, or the orphan?”
“Married life.”
The constable ruminated.
“Well, sir,” he replied judicially, “it’s like most things--’as its
advantages and its disadvantages.”
“Of course,” said Sam, “I can see that if two people married without
having any money, it might lead to a lot of unhappiness. But if you’ve
plenty of money, nothing can possibly go wrong.”
“Have you plenty of money, sir?”
“Pots of it.”
“In that case, sir, I recommend the five-shilling tickets. Say, one for
yourself, one for your good lady to be and--to make up the round
sovereign--a couple for any gentlemen friends you may meet at the club
’oo may desire to be present at what you can take it from me will be a
slap-up entertainment, high class from start to finish. Constable
Purvis will render Asleep on the Deep----”
“Look here,” said Sam, suddenly becoming aware that the man was babbling
about something, “what on earth are you talking about?”
“Tickets, sir.”
“But you don’t need tickets to get married.”
“You need tickets to be present at the annual concert in aid of the
Policemen’s Orphanage, and I strongly advocate the purchase of ’alf a
dozen of the five-shilling.”
“How much are the five-shilling?”
“Five shillings, sir.”
“But I’ve only got a ten-pound note on me.”
“Bring your change to your ’ome to-morrow.”
Sam became aware with a shudder of self-loathing that he was allowing
this night of nights to be marred by sordid huckstering.
“Never mind the change,” he said.
“Sir?”
“Keep it all. I’m going to be married,” he added in explanation.
“Keep the ’ole ten pounds, sir?” quavered the stupefied officer.
“Certainly. What’s ten pounds?”
There was a silence.
“If everybody was like you, sir,” said the constable at length, in a
deep, throaty voice, “the world would be a better place.”
“The world couldn’t be a better place,” said Sam. “Good night.”
“Good night, sir,” said the constable reverently.
(THE END)