custodian of the keys
lived miles out of the town. Back I went to the Museum, fiercely
plotting an ascent up the water-spout or a burglarious entrance through
a back window, when, to my delight, I saw an attendant gesticulating to
me from a window three or four stories from the ground. My time was
running very short, so I rapidly explained to him the predicament I was
in, and implored him to throw my bag out of the window. He told me that
he was a prisoner locked in to look after the building, that there were
three or four double-locked doors between him and the private office in
which my coveted bag was lying, and wound up with the cheering
announcement that my case was hopeless.

I had only a few minutes left in which to catch my train. A glance at my
cuffs showed me that one's linen has to be changed pretty frequently in
a Midland town, so I made a frantic dive into a shirt-maker's.

[Illustration: THE SURPRISE SHIRT.]

"White shirt, turn-down collar. Look sharp!"

"Yes, sir; size round neck, sir?"

"Oh, thirty, forty--anything you like, only look sharp." Time was nearly
up.

He measured my neck carefully. The size was a little under my estimate,
so I got the shirt, bolted for the station, and jumped into the train as
it was going off, my only luggage being my recent purchase. I got into
this, and soon I was on the platform in my tweed suit. I apologised to
the audience for making my appearance minus the orthodox costume, saying
it might have been worse, and that it was better to appear without my
dress clothes than without the lantern or the screen. I believe they
soon forgot there was anything unusual about me, but I think that as I
worked up to my subject, and became more and more energetic, they could
see that I wasn't altogether happy. That wretched shirt certainly fitted
me round the neck, but the sleeves were abnormally long for me, and the
cuffs being wide, they shot out over my hands with every gesture. If I
uplifted my hands imploringly, up they went, halfway up the screen; if
with outstretched arms I drove one of my best points home, those cuffs
would come out and droop pensively down over my hands; if I brought my
fist down emphatically, a vast expanse of white linen flew out with a
lightning-like rapidity that made the people in the first row start back
and tremble for their safety; and when, after my final grand peroration,
I let my hands drop by my side, those cuffs came down and dangled on the