were.

_George_. What stupid words! I wish they could have heard some of
papa's adjectives.

_Mrs. M_. Your father, my dear, has a copious and picturesque
vocabulary, but phrases which are pardonable in moments of expansion
in a person of mature years are not always suitable for juveniles.

* * * * *

THE TRANSGRESSOR.

I was walking painfully along a lonely road towing my
three-thousand-guinea ten-cylinder twelve-seater. According to
Regulation 777 X, both brakes were on. My overcoat collar was turned
up to protect my sensitive skin from a blasting easterly gale, and
through the twilight I was able to see but a few yards ahead. I had
a blister on my heel. Somewhere, many miles to the eastward, lay my
destination. Suddenly two gigantic forms emerged from the hedgerow
and laid each a gigantic paw upon my shoulders. A gruff voice barked
accusingly in my ear.

"You are the owner of a motorcar?"

Was it any use denying the fact? I thought not.

"Yes," I replied humbly, "I am."

"Have you the permit which allows you to possess this?" He waved