Volume 158 — A VERMIN OFFENSIVE.
Reading edition
There was a faint scuffling sound behind the wainscot.
"There it is again," said Araminta.
"Not a doubt of it," I replied, turning pale.
Thrusting on my hat I rushed up the hill to the Town Hall and asked to see the Clerk of the Borough Council immediately.
"I have reason to suspect," I said in a hoarse low whisper, as soon as I was shown into the man's presence, "that our premises are in imminent danger of being infested. Counsel me as to what I should do."
"It is your duty as a good citizen to take such steps as may from time to time be necessary and reasonably practicable to destroy the vermin," he said in a rather weary and mechanical tone.
"I hope I am not one to take my civic duties lightly," I replied with some hauteur, "but observe that I merely said I had reason to suspect the imminence of the peril. I should like to know the legal definition of infestment, if you please. I cannot definitely say that house-breaking has taken place as yet. I do not know that there has even been petty larceny. There may have been merely loitering with felonious intent."
"What is the size of your premises?" he inquired.
"It is more a messuage than a premises," I explained. "About twelve feet by ten, I should say—speaking without the lease."
"And how many vermin do you expect it to be about to harbour?"
"None have actually hove in sight at present," I said reassuringly, "but there is a sound of one in the offing—in the wainscoting, I mean."
"In a residence of your size I should say that a single mouse would constitute infestation within the meaning of the Act, so soon as it forces an ingress. It will then be your bounden duty to demolish it. How about purchasing a trap?"
"You are sure that is better than hiding behind the arras and hitting it over the head with a pole-axe?" I inquired anxiously, "or proffering it a bowl of poisoned wine?"
"Poison is no longer supplied free," he answered coldly, and I went out.
Very luckily, as I hastened up the hill, I had observed a building with the words, "Job Masters. Traps for Hire," written upon a wooden board. I went inside and found an elderly man sitting at a desk in a small office. He looked extremely patient. "Are you Job?" I asked breathlessly. "I have come to buy a mouse-trap."
Appearances, of course, are quite often deceptive. They were in this case. The elderly man was very much annoyed. When he had explained matters forcibly to me I went on down the hill and entered an ironmonger's.
"I wish to buy a trap to catch a mouse," I said to the assistant behind the counter.
"Certainly, Sir. What size?" said the lad politely.
"Small to medium," I replied, rather baffled. "It has only a medium-sized scratch."
He showed me a peculiar apparatus made of wire and wood containing apparently a vestibule, two reception rooms, staircase and first-floor lobby, with an open window and a diving-board. Underneath the window was a small swimming tank.
"I don't want a hydropathic exactly," I explained. "I propose to exterminate this rodent, not to foster longevity in it. How does it work?"
He pointed out that, after examining the various apartments, the animal would be allured by the fragrance of a small portion of cheese placed above the diving-board; overbalancing, it would then be projected into the water, where it would infallibly drown. "It is a thoroughly humane instrument," he assured me, "and used in the best 'omes."
I bought it and went on to a cheese foundry. Araminta was rather scornful of the sanatorium when I came home with it and set it, loaded and trained, on the dining-room floor; but the children were delighted. It ranked only a little lower than the pantomime, and if only we could have secured an outside visitor to it I believe that it would have defeated the Zoo. To visit it with a sort of wistful hope became the principal treat of the day. But, alas, the mansion remained untenanted. Sometimes during a lull in conversation we would hear the faint scuffling again, but after about six days I became convinced, by kneeling down and placing my ear to the carpet like an Indian, that the noise was even fainter than it had been at first. A terrible suspicion seized me. I dashed out and rang the bell of the flat next door.
"It is just as I feared," I said to Araminta on returning a few moments later. "We are not going to be infested after all. The vermin has been sighted in No. 140b."
"We must make the best of it," she said, trying to speak cheerfully, "though it is hard on the children, poor dears."
"I wasn't thinking of the children," I replied bitterly; "I was thinking of the expense. If we had been living in a house instead of a flat we could at least have deducted it from the rates."
I sat down and made out a bill as follows to the Clerk of the Borough Council, heading it:—
On Account of Spurious Infestment. s. d. To one Mouse Institute and Aquarium 5 6 " Cheese 0 6 " Labour at 2/6 per hour 0 71/2 ------ Total 6 71/2
The man replied coldly that the householder was responsible for all expenditure incurred in precautionary measures and that the Council was in no way liable for the costs resulting from an offensive that failed to materialize. He ended with the rather rude postscript, "What kind of cheese did you use?"
This was a bit sickening. However, by threatening to lay information against him, I have at last succeeded in inducing the occupier of 140b to take over the abattoir at a very satisfactory valuation. It was between that and buying his mouse.
Evoe.
TWO NIGHTMARES.
[Dreamed after reading in a daily paper that "any style of dress that lessens one's self-confidence should be tabooed" (sic).]
I travelled from the Sussex hills With confidence divine, Full of the conscious power that thrills My heart when life is mine, And strode to Lady Fancy Frills With whom I was to dine. Her guests had come from Clubs and Courts And Halls of wealthy Jews; As they surveyed my running shorts I felt my courage ooze, While conscious power, grown out of sorts, Leaked through my canvas shoes.
Then I re-travelled South by West Inflated with a joy Which in the suit I called my best No buffet could destroy; I may remark I'd come full-dressed From lunch at the Savoy. But when the hills began to shout I coloured to the roots, And when the valleys cried, "Get out!" To the last word in suits, My joy, displaced by sudden doubt, Leaked through my spatted boots.
Of the mysterious Marconigrams:—
"They may be the effort of sentiment beings in some neighbouring planet to communicate with us."—Evening Paper.
Can we have broken in on a conversation between Venus and Mars?
MANNERS AND MODES.
PROFITEERING IN THE WEST END COMPELS MAYFAIR TO PUT ON ANY OLD RAGS AND DO ITS SHOPPING IN SHOREDITCH.
BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND.
"Will you stand back, Sir? You're spoiling the picture."