Mess. The Mandril appeared to have quite forgotten his dislike of
beggars.

Tailer took the plate out and returned with it empty. "He's gone,
Sir," he said.

"I'm glad for your sake, dear Mandril, that you have fallen in with
our views," said Slip.

"What!" shouted the Mandril. "I quite forgot. A beggar!--the wretched
impostor." He rushed to the window. An old man had rounded the corner
of the house and was crossing the road on his way to a small café
opposite.

"He's going to drink it," screamed the Mandril; "battery will fire a
salvo;" and he seized two oranges from the sideboard. The first was
a perfect shot and hit the target between the shoulder-blades, and
the second burst with fearful force against the wall of the café.
The victim turned and looked about him in a dazed fashion and then
disappeared.

That night I received a note from Monsieur Le Roux, hardware merchant
and incidentally our landlord, thanking me for sixteen francs
seventy-five centimes paid in advance to his workman, and asking me
to name a day on which he could call to mend our broken stove.

* * * * *

"It is not a little pathetic to observe that a year ago, and even
two years ago, _The Daily Mail_ was urging the Government then