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“What, sit still?” asked H. O.

“No, my child,” replied Oswald, “most of us can do that when we try. Your angel sister was only wishing to set up free drinks for the poor and thirsty.”

“Not for all of them,” Alice said, “just a few. Change places now, Dicky. My feet aren’t properly wet at all.”

It is very difficult to change places safely on the willow. The changers have to crawl over the laps of the others, while the rest sit tight and hold on for all they’re worth. But the hard task was accomplished and then Alice went on:

“And we couldn’t do it for always, only a day or two–just while our money held out. Eiffel Tower lemonade’s the best, and you get a jolly lot of it for your money too. There must be a great many sincerely thirsty persons go along the Dover Road every day.”

“It wouldn’t be bad. We’ve got a little chink between us,” said Oswald.

“And then think how the poor grateful creatures would linger and tell us about their inmost sorrows. It would be most frightfully interesting. We could write all their agonied life histories down afterwards like All the Year Round Christmas numbers. Oh, do let’s!”

Alice was wriggling so with earnestness that Dicky thumped her to make her calm.

“We might do it, just for one day,” Oswald said, “but it wouldn’t be much–only a drop in the ocean compared with the enormous dryness of all the people in the whole world. Still, every little helps, as the mermaid said when she cried into the sea.”

“I know a piece of poetry about that,” Denny said.

“‘Small things are best.
Care and unrest
To wealth and rank are given,
But little things
On little wings–‘

Do something or other, I forget what, but it means the same as Oswald was saying about the mermaid.”

“What are you going to call it?” asked Noel coming out of a dream.

“Call what?”

“The Free Drinks game.

“‘It’s a horrid shame
If the Free Drinks game
Doesn’t have a name.
You would be to blame
If any one came
And–‘”

“Oh, shut up!” remarked Dicky. “You’ve been making that rot up all the time we’ve been talking instead of listening properly.” Dicky hates poetry. I don’t mind it so very much myself, especially Macaulay’s and Kipling’s and Noel’s.

“There was a lot more–‘lame’ and ‘dame’ and ‘name’ and ‘game’ and things–and now I’ve forgotten it,” Noel said, in gloom.

“Never mind,” Alice answered, “it’ll come back to you in the silent watches of the night; you see if it doesn’t. But really, Noel’s right, it ought to have a name.”

“Free Drinks Company.”

“Thirsty Travellers’ Rest.”

“The Travellers’ Joy.”

These names were suggested, but not cared for extra.

Then some one said–I think it was Oswald:

“Why not ‘The House Beautiful’?”

“It can’t be a house, it must be in the road. It’ll only be a stall.”

“The ‘Stall Beautiful’ is simply silly,” Oswald said.

“The ‘Bar Beautiful’ then,” said Dicky, who knows what the “Rose and Crown” bar is like inside, which of course is hidden from girls.

“Oh, wait a minute,” cried the Dentist, snapping his fingers like he always does when he is trying to remember things. “I thought of something, only Daisy tickled me and it’s gone–I know–let’s call it the Benevolent Bar!”

It was exactly right, and told the whole truth in two words. “Benevolent” showed it was free, and “Bar” showed what was free– e.g., things to drink. The “Benevolent Bar” it was.

We went home at once to prepare for the morrow, for of course we meant to do it the very next day. Procrastination is, you know, what–and delays are dangerous. If we had waited long we might have happened to spend our money on something else.

The utmost secrecy had to be observed, because Mrs. Pettigrew hates tramps. Most people do who keep fowls. Albert’s uncle was in London till the next evening, so we could not consult him, but we know he is always chock full of intelligent sympathy with the poor and needy.