When I passed our butcher's on my way to the station yesterday
morning, I noticed outside his shop a placard prominently displayed,
which read:--"Williamson's Spring Lamb. So different from the ordinary
butchers."
There was no apostrophe before the "s" in "butchers," so the reference
was clearly to Williamson and not Williamson's Spring Lamb.
"Is Williamson really different from his rivals?" I said to myself,
crossing to the other side of the road to take a general survey of
the shop front. No, the same sort of joints seemed to be hanging up as
those in other butchers' windows; the same sort of legends attached to
those which passers-by were invited to note particularly.
I crossed the road again. Yes, as I feared. There were several
ordinary flies and at least one bluebottle exercising themselves
on the meat. The choice cutlets were not isolated or decorated with
garlands, or made a fuss of in any way. They just fraternised on terms
of equality with the rest. The usual "young lady" in a smart blouse,
with her bare pink neck served up in a ham-frill, sat behind the
usual window, probably trying to work out the usual sums in butcher's
arithmetic.
The top half of Mr. Williamson was visible behind his chopping-table.
He saw me and touched his hat--a bowler; nothing very extraordinary
about the bowler. The brim was certainly a great deal flatter than I
like personally, but quite in keeping with the general tastes of those
who purvey meat.
I thought it better to postpone further investigations, and reflected
that Honor might be able to enlighten me when I returned home that
evening.
"No," she said, when I asked her about it, "I haven't noticed anything
exceptionally superior about him."
"Bills any different?"
"No," she said, "they take as long to pay; about as exorbitant as most
of the others."
"Have you observed anything peculiar about his manners, then?" I said;
"does he ever throw chops at you, for instance, when you pass the
shop?"
"No such luck," said Honor; "I'm a good catch."
"Perhaps they give you tea," I said, "when you make an afternoon call
on the sirloins?"
"Indeed they don't," said Honor, "not even when I go to pay something
off the book."
"Then perhaps you have cosy little auction bridge parties in the room
behind the cashier's window? No? Butchers are behind the times."
"There ought," said Honor, "to be a good joke to be made out of
that--a newspaper joke; but I can't quite see how to make it just
yet."
"That's something to the good," I said. "However, to our muttons."
"Rotten," said Honor.
"What of his entourage?" I said, ignoring her comment; "his
steak-bearer and the like?"
"Nothing unusual; just _épris_ with Emily."
"Then where, oh where," I said, "is this difference that Williamson
brags about?"
"I don't know," Honor said helplessly.
"I shall find out," I said, "even if I have to do the housekeeping
myself for a bit."
"You can take it on," she said, "when you like."
* * * * *
"Aha!" I said triumphantly, as I burst into the room this evening.
"I've solved the Williamson problem. He was standing at his door as I
passed just now, in all the regalia of his dread office."
"And you went up to him and said, 'Well, what about it?' and pointed
to the notice, I suppose."
"Not at all," I said; "I merely looked at him and the scales fell from
my eyes. He butches in spats."
* * * * *
"In the open Golf Championship Treen won with 78."--_Monthly
Daily Chronicle._
Next year it will be the saintly ANDREW'S turn again.
* * * * *
"With lightning-like repetition of his strides (his quick
action is the essence of his speed), Applegarth came flying
down the home straight."--_Yorkshire Post._
Seeing that we were looking to APPLEGARTH to uphold British prestige
at the next Olympic games, we regret extremely that the secret of his
speed should have been given away to our rivals.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Counsel._ "PRISONER IS THE MAN YOU SAW COMMIT THE
THEFT?"
_Witness (a bookmaker)._ "YES, SIR."
_Counsel._ "YOU SWEAR ON YOUR OATH THAT PRISONER IS THE MAN?"
_Witness._ "YES, SIR."
_Sporting Judge._ "ARE YOU PREPARED TO GIVE ME FIVE TO TWO ON THE
PRISONER BEING THE MAN?"
_Witness._ "AH, I'M SORRY, ME LORD, BUT I'M TAKING A HOLIDAY TO-DAY.
NOTHING DOING."]
* * * * *