"Anyone could tell 'e was." "Them other parties couldn't tell 'e was." "That's their look out." "'Ere's a bloke what's going to earn 'arfa-quid----" "'E warn't going to earn no 'arf-a-quid no more than you are." "If I wanted yer to lend me ninepence, would yer lend it me?" "No." "Why wouldn't yer?" "'Cause I 'aven't got it." "You never don't seem to 'ave nothink." "I 'ave as much as you, perhaps, once in a while." "I've just stood yer 'arf a pint." "And I've stood you 'arf a pint more than once, and more than twice." "I don't say you 'aven't." The original speaker turned to me. "If a friend was to ask you to lend 'im ninepence, wouldn't you lend it 'im? "That would depend on whether I had it." "You, being a gentleman, of course you would have it." I had finished my ale. I sidled towards the door. "I fear that does not necessarily follow." The man advanced. "Look 'ere, if I was to ask you to lend me ninepence----" "Excuse me. I'm afraid I must be off." And I was off. I have a moral conviction that if I had stayed much longer that man would have tried to wriggle ninepence out of me. A Battlefield Up-to-Date I said to Nowell at the time that I didn't altogether like the notion. He seemed astonished. "I thought you stipulated for something both novel and surprising?" "Yes," I admitted, "I did. But I do not want the roof blown off. I don't want either the novelty or the surprise to go so far as that. This is an evening party, Nowell. The persons present will be friends of mine." Nowell was sarcastic--almost rude. He appeared to be of opinion that "A Battlefield Up-to-Date, with Realistic Illustrations and Experiments," was just the theme for a drawing-room lecture. "Steingard," he observed, "is an enthusiast--a man in a million. Think of the kudos it will bring you to have the ideas of a man like that first given to the world upon your premises--your party'll be immortal. Steingard's theories will revolutionise the art of warfare--they'll amaze you." Steingard was the individual who was going to lecture. I never saw him before that fatal night--and I've never seen him since. He had better let me catch him. I did not mention to my wife what was to be the lecturer's theme until the actual morning of the appointed day--I had had my qualms all through. She at once remarked that the party would have to be postponed--or the lecture. She was not going to have cannons let off in her drawing-room--nor dynamite either. Was I insane? or was I merely a senseless idiot? Did I not know that the mere explosion of a pistol at the theatre brought her to the verge of hysterics? Did I or did anyone else suppose that machine-guns discharging two thousand shots a minute could be fired with impunity at her guests? Was that my notion of an evening party? If so, perhaps I had better let the people know before they came.