It was as the car went up Stoke Newington Road that I introduced my most diverting item. It has always pleased, but I was not certain that here it would be appreciated. The idea is to begin with a smile, to allow the smile to broaden and become more pronounced; this is followed by a chuckle, and then comes a peal of laughter. My mother identified the early stages, and, trembling with pride, warned the rest to pay special and particular notice. I am not exaggerating when I say that in less than a minute I had the whole car with me—every one amused, some roaring. The conductor put his hand over his face, but was compelled to give way, and he went so far as to admit, very handsomely, that it was the funniest thing he had witnessed outside the Dalston Hippodrome. “Don’t tire yourself, darling,” begged my mother solicitously, and speaking in aristocratic tones. “Be careful not to overdo it. You know what you’re like when you’ve been excited.” I pushed her advice aside, and when the car slowed up near the station I do believe all who were going on to the terminus felt honestly sorry to see me preparing to leave. As we stood on the pavement—the conductor had given us a hand, and he apologised for brusqueness of behaviour at the start, explaining that there had been an awkward passenger on the previous journey, and they had come to words—as we stood, I say, on the pavement, every one in the car waved hands, and the young man, I was gratified to notice, blew a kiss. “Hullo, Ernest!” said my mother. “Here we are at last. Been waiting long?” “Months and months and months,” replied my father. “What sort of a girl has she been? Baby,” he went on, addressing me, and taking me in his arms, “you may be as clever as your mother tries to make out, but I take me oath you don’t get none the lighter as time goes on!” X—TIME’S METHOD “TRAIN rather late, surely,” remarked Mr. Chelsfield deferentially to the Inspector. “What do you expect?” demanded the official, turning upon him suddenly. “What do you look for at a time like this?” “My son!” replied the other, with pride. “Me and his mother have give him six months at a boarding-school in Kent, and he’s coming home this afternoon.” “I don’t mean what you mean.” The Inspector became more calm as he essayed the task known to railway men as knocking sense into the heads of the public. “What I intended to say was that at this time of the year, and with all these specials about, it’s only reasonable to assume that the ordinary trains— See what I’m driving at, don’t you? Steam’s a wonderful invention, but we can’t do impossibilities. Think of the old coaching-days; what must it have been like then?” “His mother’s waiting at home, else I shouldn’t be so eager.” “Ah!” said the Inspector, with a touch of either sentiment or condescension. “We all know what women are.”