"Mummy told me to wait till _you_ came."
Really, these parents! The way they shirk their responsibilities nowadays is disgusting.
"'Home Rails Firm.'" said Margery, and settled herself to listen.
It is good that children should be encouraged to take an interest in the affairs of the day, but I do think that a little girl might be taught by its father (or if more convenient, mother) which part of a newspaper to read. Had Margery asked me the difference between a bunker and a banker, had she demanded an explanation of "ultimatum" or "guillotine," I could have done something with it; but to let a child of six fill her head with ideas as to the firmness or otherwise of Home Rails is hardly nice. However, an explanation had to be given.
"Well, it's like this, Margery," I said at last. "Supposing--well--you see, supposing,--that is to say, if I----" and then I stopped. I had a sort of feeling--intuition, they call it--that I was beginning in the wrong way.
"Go on," said Margery.
"Perhaps, I had better put it this way. Supposing you were to--Well, we'd better begin further back than that. You know what--No, I don't suppose you do know that. Well, if I--that is to say, when a man--you know, it's rather difficult to explain this, Margery."
"Are you explaining it now?"
"I'm just going to begin."
"Thank you, uncle."
I lit my pipe slowly, while I considered again how best to approach the matter.
"'Home Rails Firm,'" said Margery. "Isn't it a _funny_ thing to say?"
It was. It was a very silly thing to say. Whoever said it first might have known what it would lead to.
"Perhaps I can explain it best like this, Margery," I said, beginning on a new tack. "I suppose you know what 'firm' means?"
"What does it mean?"
"Ah, well, if you don't know that," I said, rather pleased, "perhaps I had better explain that first. 'Firm' means that--that is to say, you call a thing firm if it--well, if it doesn't--that is to say, a thing is firm if it can't move."
"Like a house."
"Well, something like that. This chair for instance," and I put my hand on her chair, "is firm because you can't shake it. You see, it's quite--Hallo, what's that?"
"Oh, you bad uncle, you've knocked the castor off again," cried Margery, greatly excited at the incident.
"This is too much," I said bitterly. "Even the furniture is against me."
"Go on explaining," said Margery, rocking herself in the now wobbly chair.
I decided to leave "firm." It is not an easy word to explain at the best of times, and when everything you touch goes and breaks itself it becomes perfectly impossible.
"Well, so much for that," I said. "And now we come to 'rails.' You know what rails are?"
"Like I've got in the nursery?"
This was splendid. I had forgotten these for the moment.
"Exactly. The rails your train goes on. Well, then, 'Home Rails' would be rails at home."
"Well, I've got them at home," said Margery in surprise. "I couldn't have them anywhere else."
"Quite so. Then 'Home Rails Firm' would mean that--er--home rails were--er--firm."
"But mine aren't, because they wobble. You know they do."
"Yes, but----"
"Well, why do they say 'Home Rails Firm' when they mean 'Home Rails Wobble'?"
"Ah, that's just it. The point is that when they say 'Home Rails Firm,' they don't mean that the rails themselves are firm. In fact they don't mean at all what you think they mean. They mean something quite different."
"What do they mean?"
"I am just going to explain," I said stiffly.
* * * * *
"Or perhaps I had better put it this way," I said ten minutes later. "Supposing--Oh, Margery, it is difficult to explain."
"I must know," said Margery.
"Why do you want to know so badly?"
"I want to know a million million times more than anything else in the whole world."
"Why?"
"So as I can tell Angela," said Margery.
I plunged into my explanation again. Angela is three, and I can quite see how important it is that she should be sound on the question.
LIFE'S LITTLE TRAGEDIES
X. A CROWN OF SORROWS
There is something on my mind, of which I must relieve myself. If I am ever to face the world again with a smile I must share my trouble with others. I cannot bear my burden alone.
Friends, I have lost my hat. Will the gentleman who took it by mistake, and forgot to leave his own in its place, kindly return my hat to me at once?
I am very miserable without my hat. It was one of those nice soft ones with a dent down the middle to collect the rain; one of those soft hats which wrap themselves so lovingly round the cranium that they ultimately absorb the personality of the wearer underneath, responding to his every emotion. When people said nice things about me my hat would swell in sympathy; when they said nasty things, or when I had had my hair cut, it would adapt itself automatically to my lesser requirements. In a word, it fitted--and that is more than can be said for your hard, unyielding bowler.
My hat and I dropped into a hall of music one night last week. I placed it under the seat, put a coat on it to keep it warm, and settled down to enjoy myself. My hat could see nothing, but it knew that it would hear all about the entertainment on the way home. When the last moving picture had moved away, my hat and I prepared to depart together. I drew out the coat and felt around for my--Where on earth....
I was calm at first.
"Excuse me," I said politely to the man next to me, "but have you got two hats?"
"Several," he replied, mistaking my meaning.
I dived under the seat again, and came up with some more dust.
"Some one," I said to the programme girl, "has taken my hat."
"Have you looked under the seat for it?" she asked.
It was such a sound suggestion that I went under the seat for the third time.
"It may have been kicked further along," suggested another attendant. She walked up and down the row looking for it; and, in case somebody had kicked it into the row above, walked up and down that one too; and, in case somebody had kicked it on to the other side of the house, many other girls spread themselves in pursuit; and soon we had the whole pack hunting for it.
Then the fireman came up, suspecting the worst. I told him it was even worse than that--my hat had been stolen.
He had a flash of inspiration.