eren't afraid it would bore you...."

"Of course it wouldn't, if it could amuse you!" His eyes lit. "Tell me
what it is you want to do?"

"I'm almost ashamed. It's so childish. But it would be _fun_."

"If I could care to do anything at all, it would be something childish.
Besides, I believe you and I are rather alike in several ways. We have
the same opinions about life. We're both down on our luck."

I gave myself a mental pat on the head. I ought to succeed on the stage,
if it ever came to that!

"Well," I hesitated. "I got the idea from an article in the _Times_.
There's something on the subject every day in every paper I see, but it
never occurred to me till now to get any fun out of it: the Housing
Problem, you know. Not the one for the working classes--I wouldn't be so
mean as to 'spoof' them--nor the _Nouveaux Pauvres_, of whom I'm one!
It's for the _Nouveaux Riches_. They're fair game."

"What do you want to do to them?" asked Terry Burns.

"Play a practical joke; then dig myself in and watch the result. Perhaps
there'd be none. In that case, the joke would be on me."

"And on me, if we both went in for the experiment. We'd bear the blow
together."

"It wouldn't kill us! Listen--I'll explain. It's simply idiotic. But
it's something to _do_: something to make one wake up in the morning
with a little interest to look forward to. The papers all say that
_every_body is searching for a desirable house to be sold, or let
furnished; and that there _aren't_ any houses! On the other hand, if you
glance at the advertisement sheets of _any_ newspaper, you ask yourself
if every second house in England isn't asking to be disposed of! Now, is
it only a 'silly-season' cry, this grievance about no houses, or is it
true? What larks to concoct an absolutely adorable 'ad.', describing a
place with every perfection, and see what applications one would get!
Would there be thousands or just a mere dribble, or none at all? Don't
you think it would be fun to find out--and reading the letters if there
were any? People would be sure to say a lot about themselves. Human
nature's _like_ that. Or, anyhow, we could force their hands by putting
into the 'ad.' that we would let our wonderful house only to the right
sort of tenants. 'No others need apply'."

"But that would limit the number of answers--and our fun," said Terry.
On his face glimmered a grin. After all, the "kid" in him had been
scotched, not killed.

"Oh, no," I ar