rs good to the last. Bat had both the lodge-gates
stencilled "The Earth _is_ flat!" and all the barns and walls they could
get at.... Oh Lord, but Huckley was drunk! We had to fill 'em up to make
'em forgive us for not being aeroplanes. Unthankful yokels! D'you
realise that Emperors couldn't have commanded the talent Bat decanted on
'em? Why, 'Dal alone was.... And by eight o'clock not even a bit of
paper left! The whole show packed up and gone, and Huckley hoo-raying
for the earth being flat.'

'Very good,' I began. 'I am, as you know, a one-third proprietor of
_The Bun_.'

'I didn't forget that,' Ollyett interrupted. 'That was uppermost in my
mind all the time. I've got a special account for _The Bun_ to-day--it's
an idyll--and just to show how I thought of you, I told 'Dal, coming
home, about your Gubby Dance, and she told Winnie. Winnie came back in
our char-a-banc. After a bit we had to get out and dance it in a field.
It's quite a dance the way we did it--and Lafone invented a sort of
gorilla lockstep procession at the end. Bat had sent down a film-chap on
the chance of getting something. He was the son of a clergyman--a most
dynamic personality. He said there isn't anything for the cinema in
meetings _qua_ meetings--they lack action. Films are a branch of art by
themselves. But he went wild over the Gubby. He said it was like Peter's
vision at Joppa. He took about a million feet of it. Then I photoed it
exclusive for _The Bun_. I've sent 'em in already, only remember we must
eliminate Winnie's left leg in the first figure. It's too arresting....
And there you are! But I tell you I'm afraid of Bat. That man's the
Personal Devil. He did it all. He didn't even come down himself. He said
he'd distract his people.'

'Why didn't he ask me to come?' I persisted.

'Because he said you'd distract me. He said he wanted my brains on ice.
He got 'em. I believe it's the best thing I've ever done.' He reached
for _The Cake_ and re-read it luxuriously. 'Yes, out and away the
best--supremely quotable,' he concluded, and--after another survey--'By
God, what a genius I was yesterday!'

I would have been angry, but I had not the time. That morning, Press
agencies grovelled to me in _The Bun_ office for leave to use certain
photos, which, they understood, I controlled, of a certain village
dance. When I had sent the fifth man away on the edge of tears, my
self-respect came back a little. Then there was _The Bun's_ poster to
ge