to remark that he would have preferred longer notice, as it had been
his intention that night to achieve a decisive victory in the Flight
ping-pong tournament.

"Oh, but, Toddles," came a voice, "think how pleased old Fritz will
be to see you. You'll miss the garden party, but you'll be in nice
time for the fire-works--Verey lights and flaming onions and pretty
searchlights. Don't you love searchlights, Toddles?"

Toddles stretched out an ominous hand towards the siphon, and was only
deterred from his fell intention by the entry of the C.O.

"Oh, Grigson," said the C.O. pleasantly, "the Wing have just rung
through to say they want that raid done at once, so you might get your
man up _toute suite_."

Toddles was exactly halfway through his fish.

Now, though Toddles has never to my knowledge appeared before the C.O.
at dead of night attired in pink silk pyjamas, begging with tears in
his eyes to be allowed to perform those duties which the dawn would in
any case impose upon him (this practice is not really very common in
the R.F.C.), he is a thoroughly sound and conscientious little beggar.
And, making allowances for the fallibility of human inventions,
and the fact that two other young gentlemen were also engaged in
the congenial task of making structural alterations to the railway
station at ----, Toddles comes out of the affair with an untarnished
reputation.

Whether it was that his more fastidious taste in architecture detained