Mr Wildersley, A.R.A., had demanded threepennies from a conductor on the ground that he was collecting them. The conductor had replied that he was there to take the fares, not to supply private museums. Mr Austin had met a most obliging conductor, who, however, had no threepennies in his possession. Lord Herngill and Mr Hesseltine had only contemptuous refusals to record. This, of course, happened before the war. In times when the gentler, kindlier, and more refined sex has charge of our public vehicles, the problem might prove easy of solution. ‘Well,’ the chairman began, ‘it looks as if the whole lot of you duffers had failed.’ Here the secretary, Lord Herngill, whispered a few warning words in his ear, and the chairman nodded assent. ‘Yes,’ he resumed, ‘it may look to you duffers as if the whole lot of you had failed, but of course that would be wrong. Nobody has succeeded in getting nine threepennies in change. But in that case the nearest approximation to that number wins. Mr Matthews got one threepenny, and conformed to the conditions. Nobody else even got one. Therefore I declare Mr Matthews to be the winner, and the club cheque for one hundred and ten pounds will be drawn to his order.’ Jimmy Feldane confided his private sorrows to his friend Hesseltine. ‘I don’t mind old Matthews winning. He’s a genial old bird, and what he don’t know about the noble art of dining ain’t worth worrying over. But there is just one thing that makes me want to kick myself round and round this room till I get giddy. When Matthews told us his yarn, he said he’d take twenty pence for his chance of the prize. I ought to have been on to it in a flash, if not sooner. One-and-eight for a sporting chance of a hundred and ten pounds is good enough. The more I think of it, the more I see that I ought not to be allowed out except in charge of a nursemaid.’ ‘Oh, we all missed that chance,’ said Hesseltine. ‘Maybe a little drink might do us some good.’ While they were taking the medicine indicated, the chairman read out the problem which was to employ them during the following month. The fantastic editor of _The Pig-Keepers’ Friend_ had entitled it, ‘The Q-Loan Problem,’ and its terms were as follows:— ‘It is required in three days to borrow as many things as possible, the name of each thing to begin with the letter Q. Nothing counts for the competition if its name is on the list of more than one member. No money may be given or promised in respect of any loan.’ ‘And to-morrow morning, bright and early,’ said Jimmy, ‘I’m off to the Zoo in a taxi to see if I can’t borrow their quagga.’ No. XI. The Q-Loan Problem The problem which came up for adjudication on this occasion was as follows:— ‘It is required in three days to borrow as many things as possible, the name of each thing to begin with the letter Q. Nothing counts for the competition if its name is on the list of more than one member. No money may be given or promised in respect of any loan.’