n: _Caller at the office of the Inventions Board._ "'DURING
WAR PREPARE FOR PEACE'--THAT MUST BE OUR MOTTO! AND MY SPECIAL PATENT
SHELL-CASE IS THE VERY THING. A SHELL-CASE TO-DAY----AND A BLANC-MANGE
MOULD TO-MORROW."]

* * * * *

THE ONLY OTHER TOPIC.

"I shot a marrow into the--I mean I cut a marrow two feet seven inches
long yesterday," said the man in the corner seat.

"What did it weigh?" we asked anxiously. After two months of them
potatoes had somewhat palled. We were growing rather tired of marrows,
but we waited eagerly for his answer,

"Twenty-six pounds nine and three-quarter ounces."

Disappointment again. Our hopes were dashed to the ground. Some obscure
individual, according to the local press, had produced from his humble
cottage garden a marrow weighing thirty-four pounds, and the thing
rankled.

"Mine was a scraggy specimen, more like an Indian club than a marrow."

"Crossed in love, perhaps," said Dalton.

"What your marrow wanted was nourishment," said the Authority. "A piece
of worsted round its neck, with one end dipped in a jar of water."

"Excuse me," said Jones, "the very latest is to insert a tube in the
stalk, and the flavour is greatly improved if you add a little sugar to
the water. Almost like a melon."

"Do you take a card out for each marrow, or one for each plant?" asked
Dalton.

The quiet man opposite put his paper down. He was a new-comer in the
district. We liked him, although he had no sense of humour and did not
appreciate Dalton's jokes. He appeared to be interested only in the
startling and the odd.

"That reminds me," he said, "of a most extraordinary experience I had a
few days ago. Of course you all know Enderby?"

None of us knew Enderby, but we I did not like to say so. The quiet
man's anxiety was painful. We felt he could not go on with his story
unless someone knew Enderby.

"He has a little place round at the back of the Common--quite a nice
little place." Freath--that was the quiet man's name--looked at us
reproachfully.

"I think I know Enderby," said Dalton. "Isn't he a heavily-built man
about fifty, with a grey moustache?"

"Yes, yes," said Freath eagerly. "And a curious wart on his left cheek.
Well, I dined with him the other night. His boy was there, home for the
holidays. Very clever boy; his special study is the biology of plants.
They gave me a very good dinner; I didn't notice very much what I was
eating, but