"DEAR WILLIAM,--I acknowledge your map with many thanks. There is one more
thing. My doctor insists on a very special diet. Can your cook make
porridge? I rely very largely on porridge for breakfast and ..."

I saw myself smiling at Lord DEVONPORT and wired back, "Have you ever known
a cook who couldn't make porridge?"

And on the 27th he issued his ultimatum:--

"DEAR WILLIAM,--I have consulted my doctor and he thinks I ought not to
tempt Providence by travelling at present, so I have decided to remain in
Malvern. I do hope ..."

To this I replied:--

"DEAR WIGGLES,--Holding as you do the old pagan view of Providence, you are
quite right not to tempt it. The loss is mine. I hope you will soon be
rather less unwell."

Then I went away for three days without leaving an address, and when I
returned it was to learn that Wiggles had arrived on the previous evening.
And in my study I found him, together with four wires (two to say he wasn't
coming and two to say he was) and a table loaded with prescriptions.

He eats enormously.

* * * * *

INKOMANIA.