"This," I said; "I am, very reluctantly, offering you the chance of
doing good. All you have to do is to sign your name here for anything
up to a hundred pounds, and the good does itself. It is the Saint
Nicholas New Year Offering."

"What does it do?" asked Charles uncomfortably.

"Do?" I answered. "Why, I don't think it does exactly _do_. You see
it's a New Year Offering."

"I see," said Charles. "It doesn't do; it offers. Just like a Member
of Parliament."

"I wish," I said, "instead of being funny at other people's expense
you would be serious at your own, and tell me exactly how much I can
put you down for?"

"There you go again," said Charles. "You want me to think of some
definite amount on the spot. You know I hate thinking, and I hate
definite amounts. And I loathe doing anything on the spot."

I looked at the subscription list. The last entry was:--

Major-General R. Hewland, £5 5s. 0d.

"You needn't do any thinking," I explained patiently. "You need only
stick down exactly the same as the last man. And if you'll promise to
do it I'll leave the list with you, and you can fill it in when you
feel sufficiently off the spot."