The Fladworths are charming hosts, but they have a weakness—­a passion for intellectual games, serious variants, for the most part, on “Consequences,” and a most trying ordeal for persons who cannot spell or are ignorant of history or general information.  Moreover, to add to the strain, Fladworth is always inventing new games, “so that all may start fair.”  This happened on the occasion of my last visit, when he introduced the company to “Experiences.”  Every one, having contributed sixpence to the pool, was expected to describe the most interesting or exciting event in his or her life.  One of the party, who did not compete, then decided which was the best experience, and the winner pocketed the pool.

I cannot remember all the episodes recounted, though they were for the most part serious and impressive.  Mrs. Fladworth had heard Mr. GLADSTONE read the lessons in church; Fladworth had heard TENNYSON recite “Come into the Garden, Maud” at a friend’s house in the Isle of Wight; a young invalid airman, who was known to have had the most thrilling adventures, but, after the manner of his kind, never talked of his own achievements, told us how frightened he had been by the giant in his first pantomime.  My turn came last, but I was not in the least helped by having had the longest time to prepare.  I have a wonderful memory for futilities, and when called on could think of nothing better than my recollection of the arrival of Hiawatha at the Channel Islands and the delirium of the populace.

You can imagine my feelings when old Mr. Fladworth, aet. eighty-four and rather deaf, who was acting as judge, awarded me the prize on the ground that nothing was more interesting than the effect of poetry on the masses.  I hadn’t the courage to explain that it was not LONGFELLOW’S poem, but that terrible tarantellating American tune which electrified the Channel Islanders some ten years back.  As none of the company was able or disposed to correct him there was nothing left for me to do but to rake in the sixpences.  After all, the total only amounted to five and sixpence, and I compounded with my conscience by putting it in the plate on the following morning.

* * * * *

A TALE OF THE HORSE MARINES.

“The crew of the submarine made great efforts to refloat the vessel, but were unsuccessful.  The cavalry advanced towards the spot and surrounded both the submarine and her crew, who surrendered.”—­Daily Paper.

* * * * *

“Lord Lambourne, in a farewell address to his late constituents at Waltham Abbey, said the honour which had been conferred on him was not degraded by a farthing of his money.  Licensed victualler, of Queen’s Road.”—­Woodford Times.

Are we to infer that the late Chairman of the Commons’ Kitchen Committee is now in business on his own account?

* * * * *