r a set of table croquet, but I'm afraid
the Vicar wouldn't like it. A nice man but dretfully particular. We must
wait for the end of this piece, the first violin is so touchy."

They all waited patiently while the piece continued. It was a plain
uneventful piece, composed by a Higgins relative and therefore admired
in the household.

"A thing that puzzles me," said the witch, taking advantage of an
emotional pause while one violin was wheezing a very long small note by
itself, "is why only ugly songs are really persistent. Haven't you
noticed, for instance, that a peacock, or a cat on the wall, or a baby
with a tin trumpet, will give their services most generously for hours
on end, while a robin on a snowy tree, or a nightingale, or a fairy----"

She was interrupted by a scuffling sound in the umbrella-stand, and
Harold the Broomstick, after a moment's rather embarrassing entanglement
with a butterfly net, approached, panting.

"I must go," said the witch. "I bet you twopence we shall have some fun
to-night. Sarah Brown, I'll come back and fetch you when it's all
over."

Lady Arabel and Sarah Brown crossed the road to the church, Richard
following a few yards behind.

"I'm afraid my little dinner-party wasn't a great success," said Lady
Arabel confidentially. "Rrchud and Angela didn't get that good talk on
occult subjects as Meta Ford said they would. Of course Rrchud, as you
noticed, was dretfully restless and lighthearted; all boys are like that
for the first few hours of their leave. He is naturally of a quiet
disposition, though you wouldn't think it from to-night."

There was a distant blot of gunfire on the air, just as they reached the
door of the crypt. The very stout dog of the Vicar (are not all reverend
dogs fat?) was waiting there with a bored look.

"The Vicar allows no animals inside the crypt. So hard on Mrs. Perry's
canary which has fits. I was here once when the Vicar's youngest son
brought in a rabbit under his coat. A dretful scene, my dear."

That district of London happened to be rather a courageous one. The
inhabitants felt that if the War had to be brought home to them, common
politeness dictated that it should find them at home. There were not
more than a dozen people in the crypt therefore. Most of them were old
ladies from the district's less respectable quarter, knitting. The Vicar
was trying to press comfort upon them, but without much success, for
they were all quite content, disc