"On the whole it wasn't a good day's 'unting, but this morning I was waited
on by a deputation wearing striped jerseys, which they appeared to 'ave put
on at early dawn. They said the fire was lit under the copper, 'an could
they 'ave the ball?

"'Doucemong!' says I. 'Allay along, an' let's see the fire first.'

"Yes, it were lit, but only just. The water was lukewarm an' the fuel 'ad
nearly all burned away, an' Madame was standing looking at it hopelessly.

"'Pas bong,' says I to the lads. 'Pas assay chaud. Voo scroungerez
ongcore.'

"They was frantic, becos it was nearly match time. I felt inclined to give
'em the ball, but the thought of you, Sir, in a dirty collar--"

"You may keep the pair of old riding-breeches you borrowed without
permission," interrupted Percy.

"Thank you, Sir. Then all at once the lads 'ad a confab an' went away, an'
in a few minutes they was back with some lovely straight planed props of
timber, an' they chopped 'em up in a jiffy 'an got the fire roaring 'ot,
an' I gave 'em the ball, an' your collars is done an' the rest of your
things is out drying an' will be finished to-morrow."

"Of course I'm grateful," said Percival. "You might tell your young friends
I'm willing to be a vice-president of their club--on the usual terms.
What's the name of it?"