began.
"Napoleon."
There was another shout of laughter.
"I am afraid we can't allow that."
"Why ever not?" I asked in amazement.
"Well, you'd hardly find him in a kitchen, would you?"
I took out a handkerchief and wiped my brow. "I don't want to find him in a kitchen," I said nervously. "Why should I? As a matter of fact he's dead. I don't see what the kitchen's got to do with it. Kitchens begin with a K."
"But the game is called 'Furnishing a Kitchen.' You have to make a list of things beginning with N which you would find in a kitchen. You understood that, didn't you?"
"Y-y-yes," I said. "Oh, y-y-y-yes. Of course."
"So Napoleon----"
I pulled myself together with a great effort.
"You don't understand," I said with dignity. "The cook's name was Napoleon."
"Cooks aren't called Napoleon," said everybody.
"This one was. Carrie Napoleon. Her mistress was just as surprised at first as you were, but Carrie assured her that----"
"No, I'm afraid we can't allow it."
"I'm sorry," I said; "I'm wrong about that. Her name was Carrie Smith. But her young man was a soldier, and she had bought a Life of Napoleon for a birthday present for him. It stood on the dresser waiting for her next Sunday out."
"Oh! Oh, well, I suppose that is possible. Go on."
"Gnats," I went on nervously and hastily. "Of course I know that----"
"Gnats are spelt with a G," they shrieked.
"These weren't. They had lost the G when they were quite young, and consequently couldn't bite at all, and Cook said that----"
"No; I'm afraid not."
"I'm sorry," I said resignedly. "I had about forty of them--on the dresser. If you won't allow any of them, it pulls me down a lot. Er--then we have Nitro-glycerine."
There was another howl of derision.
"Not at all," I said haughtily. "Cook had chapped hands very badly, and she went to the chemist's one evening for a little glycerine. The chemist was out, and his assistant--a very nervous young fellow--gave her nitro-glycerine by mistake. It stood on the dresser, it did, really."
"Well," said everybody very reluctantly, "I suppose----"
I went on hastily.
"That's two. Then Nobody. Of course, you might easily find nobody in the kitchen. In fact you would pretty often, I should say. Three. The next is Noon. It could be noon in the kitchen as well as anywhere else. Don't be narrow-minded about that."
"All right. Go on."
"Non-sequitur," I said doubtfully.
"What on earth----"
"It's a little difficult to explain, but the idea is this. At most restaurants you can get a second help of anything for half-price, and that is technically called a 'follow.' Now, if they didn't give you a follow, that would be a Non-sequitur.... You do see that, don't you?"
There was a deadly silence.
"Five," I said cheerfully. "The last is Nottingham. I must confess," I added magnanimously, "that I am a bit doubtful whether you would actually find Nottingham in a kitchen."
"You don't say so!"
"Yes. My feeling is that you would be more likely to find the kitchen in Nottingham. On the other hand, it is just possible that as Calais was found engraven on Mary's heart, so--Oh, very well. Then it remains at five."
* * * * *
Of course you think that as I only had five, I came out last. But you are wrong. There is a pleasing rule in this game that, if you have any word in your list which somebody else has, you cannot count it. And as all the others had the obvious things--such as a nutmeg-grater or a neck of mutton, or a nomlette--my five won easily. And you will note that if only I had been allowed to count my gnats, it would have been forty-five.
XXXVII. AN INFORMAL EVENING
Dinner was a very quiet affair. Not a soul drew my chair away from under me as I sat down, and during the meal nobody threw bread about. We talked gently of art and politics and things; and when the ladies left there was no booby trap waiting for them at the door. In a word, nothing to prepare me for what was to follow.
We strolled leisurely into the drawing-room. A glance told me the worst. The ladies were in a cluster round Miss Power, and Miss Power was on the floor. She got up quickly as we came in.
"We were trying to go underneath the poker," she explained. "Can you do it?"
I waved the poker back.
"Let me see you do it again," I said. "I missed the first part."
"Oh, I can never do it. Bob, you show us."
Bob is an active young fellow. He took the poker, rested the end on the floor, and then twisted himself underneath his right arm. I expected to see him come up inside out, but he looked much the same after it. However, no doubt his organs are all on the wrong side now.
"Yes, that's how I should do it," I said hastily.
But Miss Power was firm. She gave me the poker. I pressed it hard on the floor, said good-bye to them all, and dived. I got half-way round, and was supporting myself upside down by one toe and the slippery end of the poker, when it suddenly occurred to me that the earth was revolving at an incredible speed on its own axis, and that, in addition, we were hurtling at thousands of miles a minute round the sun. It seemed impossible in these circumstances that I should keep my balance any longer; and as soon as I realised this the poker began to slip. I was in no sort of position to do anything about it, and we came down heavily together.
"Oh, what a pity!" said Miss Power. "I quite thought you'd done it."
"Being actually on the spot," I said, "I knew that I hadn't."
"Do try again."
"Not till the ground's a little softer."
"Let's
