on his voyages),
while Major Flint bellowed "Qui-hi, Captain," which, all the world knew,
was of Oriental origin. The noise each of them made prevented him from
hearing the other, and presently one in a fuming hurry to start ran
round in front of the car at the precise moment that the other ran round
behind it, and they both banged loudly on each other's knockers. These
knocks were not so precisely simultaneous as the shouts had been, and
this led to mutual discovery, hailed with peals of falsetto laughter on
the part of Captain Puffin and the more manly guffaws of the Major....
After that the Royce lumbered down the grass-grown cobbles of the
street, and after a great deal of reversing managed to turn the corner.

Miss Mapp set off with her basket to do her shopping. She carried in it
the weekly books, which she would leave, with payment but not without
argument, at the tradesmen's shops. There was an item for suet which
she intended to resist to the last breath in her body, though her
butcher would probably surrender long before that. There was an item for
eggs at the dairy which she might have to pay, though it was a monstrous
overcharge. She had made up her mind about the laundry, she intended to
pay that bill with an icy countenance and say "Good morning for ever,"
or words to that effect, unless the proprietor instantly produced
the--the article of clothing which had been lost in the wash (like King
John's treasures), or refunded an ample sum for the replacing of it. All
these quarrelsome errands were meat and drink to Miss Mapp: Tuesday
morning, the day on which she paid and disputed her weekly bills, was as
enjoyable as Sunday mornings when, sitting close under the pulpit, she
noted the glaring inconsistencies and grammatical errors in the
discourse. After the bills were paid and business was done, there was
pleasure to follow, for there was a fitting-on at the dress-maker's, the
fitting-on of a tea-gown, to be worn at winter-evening bridge-parties,
which, unless Miss Mapp was sadly mistaken, would astound and agonize by
its magnificence all who set eyes on it. She had found the description
of it, as worn by Mrs. Titus W. Trout, in an American fashion paper; it
was of what was described as kingfisher blue, and had lumps and wedges
of lace round the edge of the skirt, and orange chiffon round the neck.
As she set off with her basket full of tradesmen's books, she pictured
to herself with watering mouth the fury,