The Mandril threw himself wildly into the argument. He told us
dreadful stories of beggars and their ways--of advertisements he
had seen in which the advertisers undertook to supply beggars with
emaciated children at so much per day. Children with visible sores
were in great demand, he said; nothing like a child to charm money
from the pockets of passers-by, etc., etc. Presently he grew tired
and changed the subject as rapidly as he had started it.

It was at lunch a few days later that the Mess waiter came in with a
worried look on his face.

"There is a man at the door, Sir," he said. "Me and Burler can't make
out what he wants, but he won't go away, not no'ow."

"What's he like?" I asked.

"Oh, he's old, Sir, and none too clean, and he's got a sack with him."

"Stop," said Slip. "Now, Tailer, think carefully before you answer my
next question. Does he wear a yachting cap?"

"Yes, Sir," said Tailer, "that's it, Sir, 'e do wear a sort of sea
'at, Sir."

"This is very terrible," said Slip. "Are we his sole means of support?
However--" and he drew a clean plate towards him and put a franc on
it. The plate went slowly round the table and everyone subscribed.
Stephen, who was immersed in a book on Mayflies, put in ten francs
under the impression that he was subscribing towards the rent of the