his ambitions. "Not the right thing to be
Munchausening in a time of sorrow" agreed his friends among themselves,
and a brief note of regret at the "sudden death of the wife of our
respected neighbour, Mr. John Blenkinthrope, from heart failure,"
appearing in the news column of the local paper was the forlorn outcome
of his visions of widespread publicity.

Blenkinthrope shrank from the society of his erstwhile travelling
companions and took to travelling townwards by an earlier train. He
sometimes tries to enlist the sympathy and attention of a chance
acquaintance in details of the whistling prowess of his best canary or
the dimensions of his largest beetroot; he scarcely recognises himself as
the man who was once spoken about and pointed out as the owner of the
Seventh Pullet.

THE BLIND SPOT

"You've just come back from Adelaide's funeral, haven't you?" said Sir
Lulworth to his nephew; "I suppose it was very like most other funerals?"

"I'll tell you all about it at lunch," said Egbert.

"You'll do nothing of the sort. It wouldn't be respectful either to your
great-aunt's memory or to the lunch. We begin with Spanish olives, then
a borshch, then more olives and a bird of some kind, and a rather
enticing Rhenish wine, not at all expensive as wines go in this country,
but still quite laudable in its way. Now there's absolutely nothing in
that menu that harmonises in the least with the subject of your great-
aunt Adelaide or her funeral. She was a charming woman, and quite as
intelligent as she had any need to be, but somehow she always reminded me
of an English cook's idea of a Madras curry."

"She used to say you were frivolous," said Egbert. Something in his tone
suggested that he rather endorsed the verdict.

"I believe I once considerably scandalised her by declaring that clear
soup was a more important factor in life than a clear conscience. She
had very little sense of proportion. By the way, she made you her
principal heir, didn't she?"

"Yes," said Egbert, "and executor as well. It's in that connection that
I particularly want to speak to you."

"Business is not my strong point at any time," said Sir Lulworth, "and
certainly not when we're on the immediate threshold of lunch."

"It isn't exactly business," explained Egbert, as he followed his uncle
into the dining-room.

"It's something rather serious. Very serious."

"Then we can't possibly speak about it now," said Sir Lulwor