A PLEA FOR THE OLD RED RAG 355 



sible that the latest novel might have kept one 

 awake and alert by its exciting revelations of super- 

 human cunning or skill displayed in the detection of 

 crime ; but I had no new novel, and fell back on a 

 beloved old scarlet-bound volume, on the back of 

 which time and hard usage have almost effaced the 

 magic words Handley Cross. 



No matter at what page one opens that delightful 

 book, there is always something to amuse. That night 

 I sat chuckling for the thousandth time over the 

 humorous advice of the " Sporting Falstaff " to his 

 " beloved 'earers," and, closing my eyes, began to 

 ruminate thereon. 



Before long it somehow became apparent to me 

 that some one had entered the room and was sitting 

 in the arm-chair on the other side of the fire, which 

 had been occupied in the earlier part of the evening 

 by the partner of my joys and sorrows. 



Not only that, but my visitor had evidently mixed 

 himself some fairly strong "hot stopping," for 

 assuredly the odour of lemon, sugar, boiling water, 

 and, I think, whisky, filled my snuggery. Curiously 

 enough, I felt no sort of surprise, as I drowsily scanned 

 my guest, who was attired in sky-blue evening coat 

 lined with pink silk, canary-coloured shorts, and 

 white silk stockings. His neckcloth and waistcoat 

 were white, and a finely plaited shirt frill protruded 

 like the fin of a perch. 



He had a fine open countenance, and though his 

 little turn-up nose and rather twisted mouth were 

 not handsome, there was a combination of fun and 



