War-time Silhouettes

n he takes off his hat one notices that he is getting a little bald. His skin is pink and unwrinkled, and his hair and moustache are so light that one does not notice whether they are

t the shape of his feet, and says that his corns give him a lot of trouble. But he likes to talk about boots, and a recurring subject of conversation with him is the difficulty of finding a man who really understands doing them properly. He knows a great deal about blacking and brushes, and is no mean authority on the art of boning or polishing or varnishing refractory footgear of a

he kitchen staff has not been changed for twenty years. Freddy Catchpole said that once when he dined with them Mrs. Baxendale asked him about the club cook, because Gilbert was very diss

eing a cautious man, he wanted to give both a good trial, but his wife finally made up his mind for him. She took no end of trouble in decorating and furnishing their house in some antique style. At first Baxendale seemed to be pleased. Every now and then he told men at the

so large one could never buy enough furniture to put in it, whereas his smoking-room was a rotten little hole you couldn't swing a cat in. Besides, it really was a mistake living in town; the country was much better for the health and less expensive

. One day Peter Knott met Baxendale playing golf with a young man whom he introduced to him as his nephew, Dick Barnard, but the youth d

to his own, provided all the money they needed, there was no object in boring himself by going to the City. After he gave up business, every week when in town Baxendale had certain obligations which filled up his time agreeably for him. For instance, he looked over the share list every morning to see that his and Mrs. Baxendale's investments were all right. He liked a pleasant object for a walk, s

s and Sundays he and his wife sometimes motored down to play golf at one or the other of their clubs. Baxendale said since his marriage he was off his game, and it was really no fun playing with a woman. Mrs. Baxendale asked Peter Knott's advice about it. She said it was such a pity Gilbert lost his temper and never would finish the round when she was one up, as the exercise really was

e gave it up because he got bored with looking after it and arranging parti

ts nowadays; fellows whose fathers keep shops and haven't an 'h' in their alphabets." He couldn't understand how people could stand the cads that went about; yet

a romancer, but Baxendale never knows whether to believe him or not, and Jack, being aware of this, concocts imposing fairy tales for Baxendale's benefit. Sir Robert is supposed to be very rich, and the amount of his fortune and what he is going to do with it are matters of deep concern to Baxendale, who made a habit of ca

dn't enjoy his food and couldn't get a proper night's sleep. He'd tried Benger's Food l

y became quite friendly. It seemed that Funkelstein also suffered from nerves. Baxendale said he was most sympathetic to him personally, and alluded to him as "poor Funkelstein." As time went on Baxendale's nerves grew worse, and it was thought he must have been badly hit financially by the War, till Peter Knott told us that he had invested most of his wife's and his own money in shipping compan

stand any more shocks. That made us suppose he had a brother or some near relative at the Front, and for some days we were rather apo

om hurriedly. It appeared afterwards that Jack had got his back up against "that blighter Gilbert" because he hadn't done a thing for Dick, who had been at Sandhurst, and was now with his regiment

e, if there was anything he could do down there. Postlethwaite suggested that he might drive wounded soldiers down to Margate in his car if he liked. Baxendale said he'

uty, and was not in the sweetest of tempers. When Baxendale asked him what he was doing he told

ors. But it had not happened to Baxendale; for Freddy Catchpole, who has managed to get a job at the War Office, dined one evening with Mrs. Baxendale, and she told him p