ee about what?"

"The Worcester tea-set, of course."

"But we haven't got one."

"My dear girl," I said, "try to imagine we have. In this little
drawing-room comedy you've only one line to learn, and your cue's
'Worcester tea-set.'"

"But what's the idea?" said Alison.

"The idea," I said, "is great, but it is as well you should not know the
whole plot of the piece yet. Play your one line, and I, as stage
manager, will answer for the rest of the cast."

"And what's Peter got to do with it? I want him to have tea with
Jessie."

"Right," I said. "Peter's part is important, but is played off--in the
wings, as it were."

My interview with Peter was not a long one.

"Now look here, old pal," I said at the close, "quarter to exactly, in
the bathroom."

"Right-o! Daddy." Peter (aetat. 9) has a wrist-watch already and winds it
regularly, so I knew he wouldn't fail me.

At a quarter to five I was talking to Mrs. Padbury, the Rector's wife,
about the doings of the various Armies in the field. I was sitting in
such a position that, while seeming to attend only to her, I could keep
an eye on the drawing-room clock behind her. Every detail of my scheme
had been carefully arranged; it now only remained for the actors to play
their ...

Crash!

"Bless my soul," I said, "that sounds remarkably like the Worcester
tea-set," and looking at the clock again I knew that Peter had made the
"loud noise off" at the exact moment. "Good lad," I said to myself.

"Great heavens!" said Alison.

I was delighted. I had been more afraid of Alison's getting stage fright
than of anything else, and there she was playing her part like a veteran
actress. Things were going really splendidly.

It was at this precise moment that the grandfather clock in the kitchen
gave out the first stroke of five, and at the same moment Jessie entered
bearing a tray, on which were the five drawing-room tea-cups which were
intact, the single ditto with a piece out, two breakfast cups and two
odd ones.

So the one player, the kitchen clock, whose part had been overlooked,
had spoilt the whole show by being nearly fifteen minutes fast; and the
fact that Jessie tripped on the doormat as she came in, with fatal
results to the rest of our tea-things, was a mere circumstance.

Alison blames me for everything.

The next pyjama conference is to be held at the Rectory.

* * * * *

From a well-known Firm's catalogue:--