h.

Berry handed me the letter, and I read it aloud.

_SIR,_

_I have received your note._

_As an alloy of misrepresentation of fact, arrogant bluster and idle
menaces, I doubt whether it has ever been equalled upon this side of the
Rhine._

_Indeed, its legibility would appear to be its only merit._

_Not that I care for your style of handwriting, but in these degenerate
days it is, you will agree, a relief to receive a letter which can be
easily read._

_You did go a bust on Blue Banana, didn't you?_

_Pray act upon your first impulse and apply for a summons. The Bench
will not grant your application, but--again you will agree--it is the
effort, and not the result, which counts._

_It is nice of you to inquire after my Sealyham. He is none the worse,
thanks, and I fancy he made old Blue Banana sit up._

_Yours faithfully,_

_BERRY PLEYDELL._

_H. BASON, Esq._

_P.S.--You must forgive me for addressing you as "Esquire," but it is
difficult to break a foolish habit of courtesy which I formed as a
child. B. P._

"Fifteen thirty," cried Adele, making ready to serve. "Hullo!" She
pointed with her racket over my shoulder. "Nobby's gone lame."

I swung on my heel to see the terrier limping apologetically towards me,
and going dead lame upon the near fore.

As he came up, I dropped my racket and fell upon one knee, the better to
search for the cause of the trouble. Carefully I handled the affected
limb....

My fingers came to his toes, and the Sealyham winced. With a sigh of
relief, I laid him upon his back.

"Got it?" said Adele.

I looked up into the beautiful face three inches from mine.

"I fancy so." I bent to peer at the small firm foot. "Yes. Here we are.
He's picked up a puncture."

The next moment I plucked a substantial thorn from between two strong
black toes. A warm red tongue touched my restraining fingers in obvious
gratitude.

"Will he be all right?"--anxiously.

"He shall speak for himself," said I, releasing my patient.

With a galvanic squirm the latter regained his feet, spun into the air,
gyrated till I felt dizzy, and then streaked round the tennis-lawn, his
hind feet comically overreaching his fore, steering a zigzag course with
such inconsequence as suggested that My Lord of Misrule himself was
directing him by wireless.

It was not worth while finishing our interrupted game, so we strolled
back to the house. At the top of the stairs we parted, to go and change.
Dire