Then the truth emerged.  The man had stolen our clock.  I had assisted the man to steal our clock, helping him to lift it off its perch and handing him his bowler hat as he left.

It all sounds incredible, doesn’t it?  But you will admit, I am sure, that it is a thing which could quite easily happen to anyone.  Isn’t it?

To be quite frank, I have improved the story a bit.  The clock wasn’t really stolen.

Was the man really taking it away to repair it?  No; to tell you the truth he didn’t actually take it away at all.  In fact, I might as well own that no man ever came into the house while I was shifting the furniture in from the street.  And, if you want to know, I never had a clock ... nor a wife ... nor a house.

The mere fact of my pretending that there are such things as semi-detacheds for people to move into these days ought to have put you wise from the start that the whole tale was a fabrication.

* * * * *

CURES WORTH MAKING.

(By our Medical Expert.)

The Times, in its daily summary of “News in Advertisements” recently called attention to the appeal of an invalided officer who “will be glad to give a hundred pounds to any doctor, nerve specialist or hospital that can cure him of occupation neurosis and writer’s cramp.”  A careful study of other newspapers shows that offers of handsome remuneration for cures are not confined to those who have suffered from the War, but are made by civilians and officials of the highest position in public life.  We append a few outstanding examples of the splendid opportunities now provided to psycho-pathological specialists:—­

A Cabinet Minister of massive physique, perfect self-confidence and immovable determination, who has had varied experience in different business callings and (up to a certain point) unvarying success, offers five thousand pounds to any professor of deportment or member of the Old Nobility in reduced circumstances who will impart to him suavity of manner, tact and diplomatic courtesy, the lack of which constitutes the sole obstacle to his achieving immortality.  If the instructor can succeed in making him (the Cabinet Minister) really beloved the honorarium will be doubled.

An Editor of thirty years’ experience as a journalist, first-rate linguist, deeply versed in geography, Central European politics, etc., will give five hundred pounds to any mental specialist, registered or unregistered, who will cure him of an irresistible temptation on all occasions, with or without provocation, to utilise every incident, occurrence, calamity or disaster as a means of assailing and undermining the position of the Coalition Government in general and the PRIME MINISTER in particular.

A Member of Parliament, formerly attached to one of His Majesty’s services, is prepared to offer fifty pounds to any phrenologist who without inflicting undue pain will reduce or remove the Bump of Curiosity which at present impels him without rhyme or reason to bombard Ministers with irrelevant questions contrary to the public interest and calculated to produce the maximum amount of irritation even amongst Members who sit on the same side of the House.