Love Among the Chickens

d to catch the train toCombe Regis, by several gleams of sunshine and a great deal of bustleand activity on the

arnet's "Manoeuvres of Arthur." Being informed that they hadnot, I clicked my tongue reproachfully, advised them to order in asupply, as the demand was

lready alongside,and presently I observed my porter cl

"Good for you. Thought youwere going to miss i

seats. Millie goes downin another. She doesn'

ng out in thefaint hope of thwarting an invasion of fellow-travellers. Then Iwithdrew my head suddenly and sat down. An elderly gentleman,accompanied by a pretty girl, was coming towards me. It was not thistype of fellow traveller whom I had hoped to keep out. I had noticedthe girl at the booking office. She had waited by the side of thequeue while the elderly gentleman

Phyllis," said the elderlygentleman, coming t

rriage?""Oh no, father. Not a bit.""Then I thin

rishman. It was not abrogue. There were no st

, settling himself and p

likely that the train mightstart at any minute, the crowd's excitement was extreme. Shrill criesechoed down the p

ridge returned, that /sauve qui peut/ of therailway crowd, the dreaded "Get in anywhere," b

a dress, skin-tight; a youth calledAlbert, not, it was to appear, a sunny child; a niece of some twenty

in that direction. Albert regarded him fixedly andreproachfully for a space, th

rish gentleman and those of his daughter, asshe leaned out of the window to converse with a

hat wereneither blue or grey was bearing the infliction, I noticed, withangelic calm. She even smiled. This was when the train su

observed Alb

nty so!""Wodyer want to sit on my ba

rt'spower of mastication. The odour of aniseed became more and mo

d like warm water down my spine that herbook was "The Manoeuvres of Arthur." I gasped. That a girl should lookas pretty as that and at the same time have the rare intelligence toread Me . . . well, it seemed an almost superhuman combination of theexcellencies. And more devoutly than ever I cursed in my heart theseintrusive outsiders who had

arked him out as afuture labour member, was consoling herself with meat sandwiches. Theniece was demolishing sausage r

. Ukridge had thrown awaythe stump of his cigar, and was now leaning back with his mouth openand his eyes shut. A

dozing, Albert's jaws workin

ook, my dear?" a

t."I would not have believed without the evidence of my

ooks for her guests when they are going away. Books that sheconsiders rubbish

eard of "The Manoeuvres of Arthur," and that mypublishers, whenever I slunk in to ask how it was selling, looked atme with a sort of grave, paternal pity and said that it had not really"begun to move?" Anybody can write

imbefore. I imagine him rather an old young man, probably with aney

ordinary sort of girl. She's acr-r

little thing at that. Thatscene between her and the curate in the conservatory . . . And whenshe talks to Arthur a

e Arthur," s

e liked Arthur, why, then it followed . . . butwhat was the use? I should never get a chance

among the sleepers. Aunty's eyes opened, staredvacantly round, closed, and reopened. The

l. There was a general exodus. Auntybecame instantly a thing of dash and electricity, collected parc

. I watched themleave stoically. It would have been to

th that remark he closed his eyes again, and returned to hisslumbers. And, as he did so, my eye, roving discontentedly over

s shows the vanity that

on purpose, as being of no further use tothe owner. It only occurred to me that, if I did not act sw

later I was o

think . . . ?""Oh, thank y

the carriage, and lit my

tal soul. "A wonderful, deep, soft,he