DEAL OF 'ORSE-CLIPPIN'."

* * * * *

ERNEST EXPERIMENTS.

There is no doubt that Ernest was to blame. I know, of course, that he
meant well. But a passion for fresh air, unless it is checked in time,
is bound to lead one into all sorts of trouble.

You see, Ernest suffers so from theories. He has theories about eating,
sleeping and waking, talking and thinking; but those on fresh air are
the worst (or perhaps I ought to say the best) of all. Not that we, who
constitute his family, would object to his theories if he didn't get us
involved in them as well; but that is exactly what does happen. There
was, for example, the camping-out proposition.

It began with Mother sitting at a table one evening in the early autumn
and jotting down figures. Her brow was troubled. "We really can't afford
a holiday this year, girls," she said, "though I suppose we shall _have_
to. What with the price of everything just now and--" She then went on
to speak with hostility of things like the Government and Sir ERIC
GEDDES, though she is a peaceable woman as a rule.

Whereupon Ernest, who was at the open window engaged in a little quiet
biceps-training (we won't allow him to do the more rowdy muscular
exercises in the living-room), remarked, "But why should we be subjected
to these eternal trammels of civilisation? Isn't the open country man's
rightful heritage?"

"I see the prices have gone up at the select boarding-house where we
stayed last year and met such nice people," went on Mother, ignoring
Ernest. "It's five guineas a week each now."

"Monstrous," put in Ernest again. "Five guineas a week just to breathe
the pure air of Heaven."

"Oh, they give you more than that," said Mother, "though I suspect the
meat isn't English."

Ernest laughed sardonically. "Now let me tell you of my plan," he said,
taking a newspaper cutting from his pocket. "Here is my solution to the
holiday problem, and it certainly doesn't cost five guineas a week. Why
not adopt it?"

"Why, it's an umbrella," commented Mother, feeling for her glasses. "But
surely you don't expect it to rain all the time?"

"That is not an umbrella, it is an illustration of a portable tent,"
explained Ernest. "The canvas folds up and can be carried in the pocket,
while the pole also folds and is convertible into a walking-stick by
day. Thus you are able to camp where you will; throw off the shackles of
convention----"

"It may be all righ