aid our host, rather surprised.

Herbert explained hastily that he hadn't really begun yet, and with the
aid of an anecdote about a cousin of his who had met Winston Churchill
at Dieppe once, he managed to get "the" in several times before blowing
his nose vigorously and announcing that he had finished.

"I believe he's playing a different game," murmured Celia to Mrs. Peter.

The next three words were disposed of easily enough, a lucky question to
Peter about the weather giving him an opportunity to refer to his straw
hat. It was now Celia's turn for "breaks."

"Nervous?" I asked her.

"All of a twitter," she said.

"Well, Celia," said our host, "how long are you going to stay with us?"

"Oh, a long time yet," said Celia confidently.

"Till Wednesday, anyhow," I interrupted, thinking it a good opportunity
to clinch the matter.

"We generally stay," explained Celia, "until our host breaks it to us
that he can't stick us any longer."

"Not that that often happens," I added.

"Look here, which of you is answering the question?"

"I am," said Celia firmly.

"Well, have you answered it yet?"

"To tell the truth I've quite forgotten the word that--Oh, I remember
now. Yes," she went on very distinctly and slowly, "I hope to remain
under your roof until next Wednesday morn. Whew!" and she fanned herself
with her handkerchief.

Mrs. Herbert repeated her husband's triumph with "the," and then it was
my turn again for these horrible camels. My only hope was that our host
would ask me if I had been to the Zoo lately, but I didn't see why he
should. He didn't.

"Would it surprise you to hear," he asked, "that the President of
Czecho-Slovakia has a very long beard?"

"If it had only been 'goats,'" I murmured to myself. Aloud I said,
"What?" in the hope of gaining a little more time.

He repeated his question.

"No," I said slowly, "no, it wouldn't," and I telegraphed an appeal to
Celia for help. She nodded back at me.

"Have you finished?" asked our host.

"Good Lord, no, I shall be half an hour yet. The fact is you've asked the
wrong question. You see, I've got to get in 'moss.'"

"I thought it was 'camels,'" said Celia carelessly.

"No, 'moss.' Now if you'd only asked me a question about gardening--You
see, the proverb we wanted to have first of all was 'People who live in
glass houses shouldn't throw stones,' only 'throw' was so difficult.
Almost as difficult as--" I turned to Celia. "What was it you