The Holiday Round | Page 6

guessed Hall Caine and the bicycle and
the spoke very quickly, but nobody thought of suggesting the favourite
spoke."
Myra went to the window again, and came back with the news that it
would probably be a fine evening.

"Thank you," we all said.
"But I wasn't just making conversation. I have an idea."
"Silence for Myra's idea."
"Well, it's this. If we can't do anything without an audience, and if the
audience won't come to us, let's go to them."
"Be a little more lucid, there's a dear. It isn't that we aren't trying."
"Well then, let's serenade the other houses about here to-night."
There was a powerful silence while everybody considered this.
"Good," said Archie at last. "We will."
The rest of the morning and all the afternoon were spent in preparations.
Archie and Myra were all right; one plays the banjo and the other the
guitar. (It is a musical family, the Mannerings.) Simpson keeps a cornet
which he generally puts in his bag, but I cannot remember anyone
asking him to play it. If the question has ever arisen, he has probably
been asked not to play it. However, he would bring it out to-night. In
any case he has a tolerable voice; while Dahlia has always sung like an
angel. In short, I was the chief difficulty.
"I suppose there wouldn't be time to learn the violin?" I asked.
"Why didn't they teach you something when you were a boy?"
wondered Myra.
"They did. But my man forgot to put it in my bag when he packed. He
put in two tooth-brushes and left out the triangle. Do you think there's a
triangle shop in the village? I generally play on an isosceles one, any
two sides of which are together greater than the third. Likewise the
angles which are opposite to the adjacent sides, each to each."
"Well, you must take the cap round for the money."

"I will. I forgot to say that my own triangle at home, the Strad, is in the
chromatic scale of A, and has a splice. It generally gets the chromatics
very badly in the winter."
While the others practised their songs, I practised taking the cap round,
and by tea-time we all knew our parts perfectly. I had received
permission to join in the choruses, and I was also to be allowed to do a
little dance with Myra. When you think that I had charge of the
financial arrangements as well, you can understand that I felt justified
in considering myself the leader of the troupe.
"In fact," I said, "you ought to black your faces so as to distinguish
yourselves from me."
"We won't black our faces," said Dahlia, "but we'll wear masks; and we
might each carry a little board explaining why we're doing this."
"Right," said Archie; and he sat down and wrote a notice for himself--
"I AM AN ORPHAN. SO ARE THE OTHERS, BUT THEY ARE
NOT SO ORPHAN AS I AM. I AM EXTREMELY FREQUENT."
Dahlia said--
"WE ARE DOING THIS FOR AN ADVERTISEMENT. IF YOU
LIKE US, SEND A SHILLING FOR A FREE SAMPLE CONCERT,
MENTIONING THIS PAPER. YOUR MONEY BACK IF WE ARE
NOT SATISFIED WITH IT."
Simpson announced--
"WORLD'S LONG DISTANCE CORNETIST. HOLDER OF THE
OBOE RECORD ON GRASS. RUNNER-UP IN THE OCARINA
WELTER WEIGHTS (STRANGLE HOLD BARRED). MIXED
ZITHER CHAMPION (1907, COVERED COURTS)."
Myra said--
"KIND FRIENDS, HELP US. WE WERE WRECKED THIS

AFTERNOON. THE CORNET WAS SINKING FOR THE THIRD
TIME WHEN IT WAS RESCUED, AND HAD TO BE BROUGHT
ROUND BY ARTIFICIAL RESPIRATION. CAN YOU SPARE US A
DRINK OF WATER?"
As for myself I had to hand the Simpson yachting cap round, and my
notice said--
"WE WANT YOUR MONEY. IF YOU CANNOT GIVE US ANY,
FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE KEEP THE CAP."
We had an early dinner, so as to be in time to serenade our victims
when they were finishing their own meal and feeling friendly to the
world. Then we went upstairs and dressed. Dahlia and Myra had
kimonos, Simpson put on his dressing-gown, in which he fancies
himself a good deal, and Archie and I wore brilliantly-coloured
pyjamas over our other clothes.
"Let's see," said Simpson, "I start off with 'The Minstrel Boy,' don't I?
And then what do we do?"
"Then we help you to escape," said Archie. "After that, Dahlia sings
'Santa Lucia,' and Myra and I give them a duet, and if you're back by
then with your false nose properly fixed it might be safe for you to join
in the chorus of a coon song. Now then, are we all ready?"
"What's that?" said Myra.
We all listened ... and then we opened the door.
It was pouring.

V.--MAROONED

"Stroke, you're late," said Thomas, butting me