TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston

stirring overhead, padding about the floor and talk*
in muffled voices. Meanwhile I stole down to the
pantry to cut myself a piece of cake. What a stuffy,
smelling place it was, with the taps dripping into the
sink and a bluebottle fly buzzing sleepily on the ceil-
ing. I inspected the village grocer's calendar which
was hanging; from a nail. On it there was a picture

of "The Relief of Ladysmith"____Old Kruger and

the Boers. I never could make up my mind what it
was all about, that Boer War, and it seemed such a
long way ofl%. . . . Yawning and munching I went
creaking up to my room. It was broad daylight out
of doors, but I was soon asleep again.

II

A'TftR BREAKFAST there was no time to be wasted.
First of all I had to rummage about for the tin
of "Blanco", which was nowhere to be found. Prob-
ably the parlour-maid had bagged it; why on earth
coulchVt they leave things alone? I knew exactly
where I'd led the tin at the end of last holidays—on
the shelfin the schoolroom, standing on an old case of
beetles (of which, for a short time, I had been a collec-
tor). And now, unless I could find the tin quickly,
therc'd never be time for me to Blanco my pads, for
they took ever so long to dry in the sun, even on a
blazing hot day like this one....

"Really, it's' a bit thick. Aunt Evelyn; someone's
taken my tin of'Blanco'," I grumbled. But she was
already rather fussed, and was at that moment pre-
occupied in a serious discussion with Mabb, the
gardener, about the transportation of the crockery
which she was lending for the Cricket Tea.

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