st of
civilisation. The scrubby newspaper packets of chestnuts, plums, figs
and rusks were spread out: Francis flew for salt to the man at the
bar, and came back with a little paper of rock-salt: the brown tea was
dispensed in the silver-fitted glasses from the immortal luncheon-case:
and the picnic was in full swing. Angus, being in the height of his
happiness, now sat on the seat cross-legged, with his feet under him, in
the authentic Buddha fashion, and on his face the queer rapt alert look,
half a smile, also somewhat Buddhistic, holding his glass of brown
tea in his hand. He was as rapt and immobile as if he really were in
a mystic state. Yet it was only his delight in the tea-party. The
fellow-passenger peered at the tea, and said in broken French, was it
good. In equally fragmentary French Francis said very good, and offered
the fat passenger some. He, however, held up his hand in protest, as if
to say not for any money would he swallow the hot-watery stuff. And he
pulled out a flask of wine. But a handful of chestnuts he accepted.

The train-conductor, ticket-collector, and the heavy green soldier who
protected them, swung open the door and stared attentively. The fellow
passenger addressed himself to these new-comers, and they all began to
smile good-naturedly. Then the fellow-passenger--he was stout and fifty
and had a brilliant striped rug always over his knees--pointed out the
Buddha-like position of Angus, and the three in-starers smiled again.
And so the fellow-passenger thought he must try too. So he put aside his
rug, and lifted his feet from the floor, and took his toes in his hands,
and tried to bring his legs up and his feet under him. But his knees
were fat, his trousers in the direst extreme of peril, and he could no
more manage it than if he had tried to swallow himself. So he desisted
suddenly, rather scared, whilst the three bunched and official heads in
the doorway laughed and jested at him, showing their teeth and teasing
him. But on our gypsy party they turned their eyes with admiration. They
loved the novelty and the fun. And on the thin, elegant Angus in his new
London clothes, they looked really puzzled, as he sat there immobile,
gleaming through his monocle like some Buddha going wicked, perched
cross-legged and ecstatic on the red velvet seat. They marvelled that
the lower half of him could so double up, like a foot-rule. So they
stared till they had seen enough. When they suddenly said "B