After the last happy child had gone home, Lord William and my youngest brother, who had likewise been assisting, feeling rather limp and exhausted, suggested they would like a wash and brush up. After this operation both were due at opposite ends of London; it was pouring with rain, and there seemed to be a scarcity of cabs. The servants whistled until they were nearly black in the face, as my brother expressed it; at last they succeeded in attracting the attention of one hansom; then each man was too polite to take the cab from the other, and as they were going in opposite directions they could not share it. My brother told Lord William to jump in and he would find one for himself, or wait with me until another arrived. Lord William would not agree to this, and told my brother to jump in. It ended in their struggling fiercely in the street, each trying to put the other into the cab. The cabby at first looked on in awe and wonderment; he was anxious to keep the cab dry, and each time one of the strugglers was nearly deposited in the cab, up would go the glass, then as they subsided for a fresh effort on the pavement down went the glass again, as the cabby saw all was not decided. He was now entering into the spirit of the game, and settled down to watch and be ready to receive the missile when it eventually arrived. By this time another cab had turned up, but nobody took the least notice of it. A small crowd of wet errand boys had collected to watch the fun, and I was momentarily expecting a policeman to appear on the scenes and take them both into custody. At last Lord William won the day, and from behind the curtains in the dining-room window I saw my bruised and shin-barked brother chucked into the cab while in response to the cabman’s “Where to?” Lord William replied, “Home for lost dogs, and drive like the devil.” Needless to say neither my brother nor Lord William looked like paying visits after this romp; their hats had been knocked off and clapped on again by the servants, and small boys looking on, only to roll off once more. Ties had waltzed round, and were looking out from unaccustomed places, collars looked shy and drooping; but I am flying too far ahead; and the Simla Gymkhanas require and deserve a little space before passing on.