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PAGE 2

An Informal Evening
by [?]

“I suppose it doesn’t count if you swallow the pin,” said Miss Power thoughtfully.

“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about that side of it much. Anyhow, unless you’ve got a whole lot of pins you don’t want, don’t ask me to do it to-night.”

Accordingly we passed on to the water-trick. I refused at this, but Miss Power went full length on the floor with a glass of water balanced on her forehead and came up again without spilling a single drop. Personally I shouldn’t have minded spilling a single drop; it was the thought of spilling the whole glass that kept me back. Anyway it is a useless trick, the need for which never arises in an ordinary career. Picking up The Times with the teeth, while clasping the left ankle with the right hand, is another matter. That might come in useful on occasions; as, for instance, if, having lost your left arm on the field and having to staunch with the right hand the flow of blood from a bullet wound in the opposite ankle, you desired to glance through the Financial Supplement while waiting for the ambulance.

“Here’s a nice little trick,” broke in Bob, as I was preparing myself in this way for the German invasion.

He had put two chairs together, front to front, and was standing over them, if that conveys it to you. Then he jumped up, turned round in the air, and came down facing the other way.

“Can you do it?” I said to Miss Power.

“Come and try,” said Bob to me. “It’s not really difficult.”

I went and stood over the chairs. Then I moved them apart and walked over to my hostess.

“Good-bye,” I said; “I’m afraid I must go now.”

“Coward!” said somebody, who knew me rather better than the others.

“It’s much easier than you think,” said Bob.

“I don’t think it’s easy at all,” I protested. “I think it’s impossible.”

I went back and stood over the chairs again. For some time I waited there in deep thought. Then I bent my knees preparatory to the spring, straightened them up, and said.$1hat happens if you just miss it?”

“I suppose you bark your shins a bit.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought.”

I bent my knees again, worked my arms up and down, and then stopped suddenly and said:

“What happens if you miss it pretty easily?”

“Oh, you can do it, if Bob can,” said Miss Power kindly.

“He’s practised. I expect he started with two hassocks and worked up to this. I’m not afraid, but I want to know the possibilities. If it’s only a broken leg or two, I don’t mind. If it’s permanent disfigurement I think I ought to consult my family first.”

I jumped up and came down again the same way for practice.

“Very well,” I said. “Now I’m going to try. I haven’t the faintest hope of doing it, but you all seem to want to see an accident, and anyhow, I’m not going to be called a coward. One, two, three….”

“Well done,” cried everybody.

“Did I do it?” I whispered, as I sat on the floor and pressed a cushion against my shins.

“Rather!”

“Then,” I said, massaging my ankles, “next time I shall try to miss.”