TRAINS FULL.
CHARABANKS FULL.
AEROPLANES FULL.
THE LAST RESOURCE.
SEA, SAND AND HOTELS FULL.]

* * * * *

THE COUNTER-IRRITANT

Most men have a hobby. Timbrell-Timson's is to bear on his narrow
shoulders the burden of Middle Europe. He calls it Mittel-Europa.
Lately he has been sharing his burden with me.

"You know," he said, frowning--he always frowns, because of the
burden--"I am rather uneasy about the Czecho-Slovaks."

"I'm not too comfortable about them myself," I said truthfully.

"There seems to be a certain lack of stability about their new
constitution," said T.-T., "a--a--a--what shall I say?"

"A--er--um--a," I put in.

"Exactly; just so," said T.-T. He then got into his stride and gave me
twenty minutes' Czecho-Slovakism when I was dying to discover whether
HOBBS had scored his two-millionth run.

As T.-T. talked my mind wandered away into regions of its own--Aunt
Jane's rheumatic gout, my broken niblick, the necessity for getting
my hair cut. But sub-consciously I reserved a courteous minimum of
attention for T.-T., and said, "H'm" and "Ha" with decent frequency.
He went on and on, shedding several ounces of the burden. I decided
that Aunt Jane ought to have a shot at Christian Science.

"... very much the same plight as the Poles," said T.-T., emerging from
a cloud of Czecho-Slovakism and pausing to clear his meagre throat.

I felt it was up to me. "Of course," I said, "the Poles don't strike
one as being--er--very--that is--"

"Precisely. They are not," said T.-T., as I knew he would. "But I am
very relieved to see that M. Grabski...."

This was something new and sounded amusing. "Grabski?" I said. "What's
happened to dear old--I mean, I thought M. Paderewski was--"

"I am referring to the recent Spa Conference," said T.-T. severely.

"Of course, how silly of me," I murmured.

T.-T. gave me another twenty minutes of Poland. Then he released me,
with a final word of warning against putting too much faith in M.
Daschovitch. I promised I wouldn't.

T.-T. shook me cordially by the hand and said, "It has been a pleasure
to talk to such a sympathetic listener."

What led me to revolt was T.-T.'s hat-trick. Three evenings in
succession he unloaded on me chunks of the burden. Probably he thought
the third time made it my own property.

I asked advice from Brown, a man of commonsense.

"During the Great War," said Brown, "I went down with pneumonia. They