"We might get into bathing togs and play polo," I suggested. "That's not a bad notion," said John, "and then he needn't have a wash until to-morrow." "I suggest," continued Miss Davies, "that we play at Word Chains." Davies buried his face in his hands and groaned. "It sounds fine," I said gallantly. "What is it?" "Well, it's really a sort of mind exercise. They recommend it in those courses, you know," said Miss Davies, "er--'it stimulates a logical sequence in reasoning and quickens the mental processes.'" "Is that what they say about it?" asked John fearfully. "But it makes a splendid game," added Miss Davies eagerly. "Let me explain it to you and you'll see. First of all we think of a word, such as--er-- 'margarine.'" "Why?" asked John. "It's part of the game, of course," said Miss Davies indignantly. "Oh, I see--of course. How stupid of me!" said John. "Then we think of another word quite different, such as--" "'Hippopotamus,'" I suggested. "That's right," said Miss Davies. I stood up and bowed. "Well, I'm hanged!" said John. "Jolly good, Alan. However did you guess it? Has he won?" he asked Miss Davies. "Of course not," said she; "we haven't begun yet." I sat down again hurriedly. "Then," continued Miss Davies, "we take turns, starting with the word 'margarine' and making a chain, each word being connected in some way with the one before it. And whoever can get to the word 'hippopotamus' first has won." "One hippopotamus?" asked John. "WON," said Miss Davies sweetly. Her brother groaned again. "I'll just give you an easy example," went on Miss Davies enthusiastically, "and then we'll begin. Take the words 'fire' and 'nigger.' A good chain would be 'fire--coal--black--nigger.' Do you see? John and I made sounds expressing that we thought we did. Davies just went on groaning. "Very well," said Miss Davies, "we'll begin. Now don't forget. We start with 'margarine' and try to get to 'hippopotamus.' The great thing is to keep the word 'hippopotamus' in your mind all the time and keep trying to work towards it. Are you ready? Right! I'll start with 'grease.'" "Greece?" said John, looking startled. "Yes, margarine--grease," explained Miss Davies. "Oh, I see," said John, "er--oil." I thought seriously for a moment. "Salad," I said, looking round for approval. "Splendid," said Miss Davies. "Now you, Arthur." "I refuse--Oh, all right," he said. "Where have we--'salad'--er-- 'lobster.'" Do you catch the idea, as it were? We seemed to fall into the way of it in a moment. Once we had tried we progressed at a tremendous rate. Perhaps we are all very clever, or perhaps it was really easier than it seems in the telling, but looking back the conversation seems to have been simply brilliant. Well, here's an idea of how we went on, anyway, and you can judge for yourselves (Davies, you remember, has just snapped out "Lobster"):-- _Miss Davies_ (quick as lightning). Shrimp. _John_. Whiskers. (A very subtle one, this.)