a lady escape unseen, some less
scrupulous combatant (usually one of his own daughters) immediately
rushed the position, and he was not going to be had in that way again,
though as a matter of fact, while they were arguing the matter out,
somebody actually did this, so he was.

Now what is the way out of this dilemma? The only solution I see is
the Sponge System, by which every competitor puts down a sponge, as
one puts down a ball at the first tee. In this way definite claims
can be staked out in rotation without congestion of the avenues of
approach. I hope this system will be generally adopted next summer
and, if it is used in conjunction with my Progress Indicator (which
shows by a moving needle what stage the person bathing has reached),
it ought to work very smoothly. But there must be no hanky-panky, no
sharp practice with caddies; every sponge must be put down by one
of the players in person. And there must be none of that regrettable
collusion between husband and wife which has brought such discredit on
the present system.

There was a very bad case of this the other day. A certain wife used
to entrench herself in the bathroom early and remain in it till her
husband--a heavy and persistent sleeper--arrived. When you rattled
angrily at the door-knob she said very sharply, "Who is that?"--in
itself a sufficiently disturbing thing. Even in the present days of
shamelessness and crime there are few men who care to confess openly
that they have angrily rattled at the bathroom door. If you said
sheepishly, "It is Smith" or "Thompson" or "Lord Bumble," a heavy
silence fell, broken only by those gentle watery sounds which it is so
maddening to hear from without. When her husband arrived and answered
the challenge with "It is I, Arthur," sounds of feverish activity were
heard within, and a new bath was immediately turned on.

Casting all scruples to the winds, seven desperate men rehearsed the
password, "It is I, Arthur;" seven desperate men presented themselves
in a single morning and murmured lovingly, "It is I, Arthur." None of
them had a bath. Seven times the good lady opened the door and beheld
Smith or Thompson or Lord Rumble or nobody. And seven times she bolted
back into the burrow again. She remained undefeated. Her husband got
his bath.

I wonder what devilry she would be up to under the Sponge System.

A. P. H.

* * * * *

A NOVELTY FROM THE PAST.

"ANTIQUE, over