said. He pocketed the coin and put his finger on his lips.

"_Belge,"_ he said. Then he bolted into a shed and returned
accompanied by Mr. Diggles. There was nothing for it but to purchase
another pound of mushrooms. I was no nearer "A Fortune in Fungus" than
before.

Two days later, having received apparently reliable information that
Mr. Diggles was confined to his bed with influenza, I ventured again
to visit the sheds. I was advancing boldly across the field when to
my consternation he suddenly appeared from behind a hayrick. I was
so startled that I turned to fly, and in my precipitancy tripped on a
tussock and fell. Mr. Diggles came to my assistance, and, when he had
helped me to my feet and brushed me down with a birch broom he was
carrying, I could do nothing less than buy another pound of his
mushrooms.

I felt it was time to consult Biddick. He was sitting at his desk
staring at a blank sheet of paper. His fingers were harrowing his hair
and he looked distraught.

"Excuse the interruption," I said, "but this 'Fortune in Fungus' is
ruining me;" and I related my experience.

At the finish Biddick gripped my hand and spoke with some emotion.
"Dear old chap," he said, "it's my line, after all. It's funny. If
only I can do it justice;" and he shook his fountain-pen.

This morning I received a guinea and a newspaper cutting entitled "A
Cadger for Copy," which may appeal to some people's sense of humour.