ay streamers, wending their way through the rear-entrance
drive of Wedderburn, where one of Mr. Crewe's sprucest employees was
taking up the invitation cards like tickets,--a precaution to prevent
the rowdy element from Ripton coming and eating up the refreshments.
Austen obediently tied Pepper in a field, as he was directed, and made
his way by a path through the woods towards the house, where the Ripton
Band could be heard playing the second air in the programme, "Don't you
wish you'd Waited?"

For a really able account of that memorable entertainment see the Ripton
Record of that week, for we cannot hope to vie with Mr. Pardriff when
his heart is really in his work. How describe the noble figure of Mr.
Crewe as it burst upon Austen when he rounded the corner of the house?
Clad in a rough-and-ready manner, with a Gladstone collar to indicate
the newly acquired statesmanship, and fairly radiating geniality, Mr.
Crewe stood at the foot of the steps while the guests made the circuit
of the driveway; and they carefully avoided, in obedience to a warning
sign, the grass circle in the centre. As man and wife confronted him,
Mr. Crewe greeted them in hospitable but stentorian tones that rose
above the strains of "Don't you wish you'd Waited?" It was Mr. Ball who
introduced his townspeople to the great man who was to represent them.

"How are you?" said Mr. Crewe, with his eyes on the geraniums. "Mr.
and Mrs. Perley Wright, eh? Make yourselves at home. Everything's
free--you'll find the refreshments on the back porch--just have an eye
to the signs posted round, that's all." And Mr. and Mrs. Perley Wright,
overwhelmed by such a welcome, would pass on into a back eddy of
neighbours, where they would stick, staring at a sign requesting them
please not to pick the flowers.

"Can't somebody stir 'em up?" Mr. Crewe shouted in an interval when the
band had stopped to gather strength for a new effort. "Can't somebody
move 'em round to see the cows and what's in the house and the
automobile and the horses? Move around the driveway, please. It's so hot
here you can't breathe. Some of you wanted to see what was in the house.
Now's your chance."

This graceful appeal had some temporary effect, but the congestion soon
returned, when a man of the hour appeared, a man whose genius scattered
the groups and who did more to make the party a success than any single
individual,--Mr. Hamilton Tooting, in a glorious white silk necktie with
pur