Rather curious—­very few people can account for their movements, or anyone else’s.  In most criminal trials the witnesses remember to a minute, years after the event, exactly what time they went upstairs and when they passed the prisoner in the lounge, but nobody seems to remember anything in this affair.  No doubt it will come in time.

The trial was very realistic.  I was able to make one or two excellent judicial jokes.  Right at the beginning I said to the prosecuting counsel, “What is an apple-pie bed?” and when he had explained I said with a meaning look, “You mean that the bed was not in apple-pie order?” Ha, ha!  Everybody laughed heartily....

VIII.

In my address to the jury of matrons I was able to show pretty clearly that the crime was the work of a gang.  I proved that Denys and Joan must have done the bulk of the dirty work, under the tactical direction of the Barkers, who did the rest; while in the background was the sinister figure of Mr. Winthrop, the strategical genius, the lurking Macchiavelli of the gang.

The jury were not long in considering their verdict.  They said:  “We find, your Lordship, that you did it yourself, with some lady or ladies unknown.”

That comes of being a professional humourist....

IX.

I ignored the verdict.  I addressed the prisoners very severely and sentenced them to do the Chasm hole from 6.0 A.M. to 6.0 P.M. every day for a week, to take out cards and play out every stroke.  “You, Winthrop,” I said, “with your gentlemanly cunning, your subtle pretensions of righteousness—­” But there is no space for that....

X.

As a matter of fact the jury were quite right.  In company with a lady who shall be nameless I did do it.  At least, at one time I thought I did.  Only we have proved so often that somebody else did it, we have shown so conclusively that we can’t have done it, that we find ourselves wondering if we really did.

Perhaps we didn’t.

If we did we apologise to all concerned—­except, of course, to Mr.
Winthrop.  I suspect him.

A.P.H.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THE END OF THE SEASON.

Sympathetic Friend. “WELL, YOU’VE LAID HER UP NICELY FOR THE WINTER, ANYHOW.”]

* * * * *

MIXED METEOROLOGICAL MAXIMS.

(By a Student of Psychology.)

  When the glass is high and steady
  For domestic broils be ready. 
  When the glass is low and jerky
  Then look out for squalls in Turkey. 
  When the air is dull and damp
  Keep your eye on Mr. CRAMP. 
  When the air is clear and dry
  On BOB WILLIAMS keep your eye. 
  When it’s fine and growing finer