* * * * *

Evicted.

(A COMMON SCANDAL, INVITING THE ATTENTION OF THE GOVERNMENT.)

I was amazed the other day to hear that my landlord had called to see me.  Hitherto our intercourse had been by letter and we had had heated differences on the subject of repairs.  His standpoint seemed to be that landlords were responsible for repairs only to lightning conductors and weathercocks.  My house possesses neither of these desirable adjuncts.

I moved an armchair so that no one sitting in it could fail to see the dampest wall and ordered him to be shown in.

He was a most benevolent-looking old gentleman, and I felt I had done him an injustice in regarding him as a property shark.

“Glad to see you,” he said, shaking me warmly by the hand.

“Do sit down,” I said.  “That chair is the most comfortable.  Don’t be afraid.  At that distance from the wall the damp won’t affect you.”

“So glad to see how comfortable you are here,” said the benevolent one.

“If we could occasionally have a hot bath we should be more comfortable, but the kitchen range is impossible.”

“What you need, my friend, is a house of your own so that you can adapt it to your own ideas.  How would you like this house?”

My breath was taken away.  Had the kindly one come to present me with a house?  Was I to be the object of an amiable plutocrat’s benevolence?

“I should like it very much,” I said.

“You shall have it,” he said, slapping me amiably on the knee.

I gasped for breath.  In my time I had had boxes of cigars given me, but never houses.

“For fifteen hundred pounds, as you are the tenant,” continued the benevolent one.

I gasped for breath again.

“But you bought it for five hundred and fifty pounds just before the War,” I said when I had recovered.

“Ah, before the War,” chuckled the philanthropist.

“I don’t think I can afford fifteen hundred pounds.”

The benevolent one looked disappointed in me.  “Dear me,” he said, “and I wanted so much to sell it to you.  Well, I shall have to give you notice to quit in June.  This house must be sold.”

“But I can’t get another house.”

“You can have this house.  But surely you have some friend who will advance you fifteen hundred pounds?”

“You don’t know my friends.  It would be very awkward to be turned into the street.”

“You should have a house of your own and be independent.  Every man should own his home.  Now can’t you think of some friend who could assist you?”

“Could you lend me fifteen hundred pounds for a rather speculative investment?” I inquired.

“Since my kindly consideration for a tenant is treated with mockery I give you written notice to leave.  A ‘For Sale’ board will be placed in your garden.  A clause in the lease authorises me to do that.  I wish you good morning.”