_Mr. S. (keeping the Journal)._ All in good time. (_Addressing_ ROBERT.) Am I to understand, Sir, that you have actually had the presumption to engage in this competition?--an uneducated young rascal like you! _Robert._ I didn't mean no harm, Sir, I sent in nothink--it was on'y a lark, Sir! _The Family (dancing with suspense)._ Oh, never mind ROBERT now, Father--do read out the Word! _Mr. S. (ignoring their anxiety)._ If you sent in nothing, Sir, so much the better. But, in case you should be tempted to such a piece of infatuation in future, let me tell you this by way of--ah--warning. I and my family, have, with every advantage that superior education and abilities can bestow, sent in, after prolonged and careful deliberation, no less than two hundred and fifty separate solutions, and not a single one of these solutions, Sir, proves to be the correct one! _The Family (collapsing on the nearest chairs)._ Oh, it can't be true--one of them _must_ be right! _Mr. S._ Unfortunately, they are not. I will read you the sentence as completed. _(Reads.)_ "Should such a contingency happen, the number of these feathered songsters included in the catastrophe would, in all probability, be simply--ah--_nought_!" Now I venture to assert that nothing short of--ah--absolute genius could possibly----(_To_ ROBERT.) What do you mean by interrupting me, Sir? _Robert._ Please, Sir, _I_ said nothink, Sir! _Pompilia._ Oh, what _does_ it matter? Give me the paper, Papa. _(She snatches it.)_ Oh, listen to this:--"The number of solutions sent in was five hundred thousand, which means that twenty-five thousand pounds remain for division. The only competitor who gave the correct solution was Mr. ROBERT CONKLING, of Linoleum Lodge, Camberwell...." _Oh!_ Why, that's _you_, ROBERT! _Robert._ Yes, Miss, I told you I said "Nothink," Miss. I'm sure if I'd thought---- _Mr. S. (gasping)._ Twenty-five thousand pounds! Ah, ROBERT, I trust you will not forget that this piece of--ah--unmerited good fortune was acquired by you under this humble roof. Shake hands, my boy! _Pompilia._ Wait, Papa--don't shake hands till I've done--_(continuing)--_"Mr. CONKLING, however, having elected to disregard our conditions, requiring the solution to be written out in full, and to express the word "Nought" by a cipher, we cannot consider him legally entitled to the prize----" _Mr. S._ How dare you use my private address for your illiterate attempts, Sir? _Prisc. (seizing the paper)._ Why don't you read it all?----"We are prepared, nevertheless, to waive this informality, and a cheque for the full amount of twenty-five thousand pounds, payable to his order, will be forwarded to Mr. CONKLING accordingly----" _Mr. S._ Well, ROBERT, you deserve it, I must say--shake hands!--I--ah--_mean_ it. _Robert._ Thankee, Sir, I'm sure--it was Cook and JANE 'elped me, Sir, but--(_dolefully_)--I sold my chanst to the butcher-boy, for tuppence and a mouth-orgin, Sir.