"Well, we haven't had it. C-can you give me any indication, w-without
actually s-saying it, you know?"

"Well now," said the mosquito, "You know how many years' service I've
got? Multiply by two and add the map square of this headquarters."

"Well, look here," it sang again, "you remember the number of the
billet where I had dinner with you three weeks ago? Well, halve that
and add two."

"Half nine and add two" (_aside_: "These midnight mathematics will be
the death of me--ah! that's between six and seven?"). _Aloud_: "But
that's daylight."

"No, it isn't. Which dinner are you thinking of?"

With the sweat pouring down his face, both hands now clasping the
telephone--his right being completely numbed--he called upon the gods
to witness the foolishness of mortals. Suddenly a hideous cackle of
mosquito-laughter filtered through and, by some diabolical contrivance
of the signals, the tiny voice swelled into a bellow close to his ear.

"If you really want to know, old Possum," it said, "the raid took
place two hours ago!"

"I hope," said Possum, much relieved, but speaking with concentrated
venom, "I h-hope you may be strafed with boiling-- Are you there?"
Being assured that he was he slapped his receiver twice, and, much
gratified at the unprintable expression of the twice-stunned-one at