Berry and Co Part 27

Attracted by the shaft of light and the mellow atmosphere of good cheer and hilarity which streamed into the comparative gloom of the quadrangle, the pig made a bee-line for the doorway, and a moment later the exclusive circle was enriched by the presence of this simple and unaffected guest. The details of what followed have never transpired, but from the Senior Proctor's demeanour at a subsequent interview, and the amount of the bill for damage which I was requested to pay, I am inclined to think that the pig must have been a confirmed Bolshevist."

"I hope you apologized to the Master."

"I did. I received in reply a letter which I shall always value. It ran as follows--

_SIR,_

_I beg that you will think no more of the matter. Youth must be served.

Many years ago I a.s.sisted your father in a somewhat similar enterprise.

Till the other evening I had always believed that the havoc provoked by the introduction of a dancing bear into a concert-room could not be surpa.s.sed. I am now less certain._

_Yours very faithfully,_

"I think," said Jill, "he was very forgiving."

"It was deep," said Berry, "calling to deep. By the way, you'll all be pleased to hear that I have received peremptory instructions 'within one week to abolish the existing number by which this house is distinguished, and to mark or affix on some conspicuous part thereof a new number, and to renew the same as often as it is obliterated or defaced.' Selah."

"Whatever," said Daphne, "do you mean?"

"Sorry," said Berry. "Let me put it another way. Some genii, masquerading as officials, have got a move on. Snuffing the air of 'Reconstruction,' they have realized with a shock that the numbers of the houses in this street have not been changed for over half a century.

Thirstily they have determined to repair the omission. We've always been '38.' In a few days, with apologies to Wordsworth, we shall be '7.' A solemn thought."

"But can we do nothing?"

"Certainly. In that case somebody else will obliterate the existing number, and I shall be summoned to appear before a Justice of the Peace."

"It's outrageous," said Daphne. "It'll cause endless confusion, and think of all our notepaper and cards. All the dies will have to be sc.r.a.pped and new ones cut."

"Go easy," said I. "After a decent interval they'll alter the name of the street. Many people feel that The Quadrant should be renamed 'The Salient,' and Piccadilly 'High Street.' I'm all for Progress."

"Is this renumbering stunt a fact?" said Jonah. "Or are you Just being funny?"

"It's a poisonous but copper-bottomed fact," said Berry. "This is the sort of thing we pay rates and taxes for. Give me Germany."

"Can't we refuse?"

"I've rung up Merry and Merry, and they've looked up the law, and say there's no appeal. We are at the mercy of some official who came out top in algebra in '64 and has never recovered. Let us be thankful it wasn't geography. Otherwise we should be required to name this house 'Sea View'

or 'Clovelly.' Permit me to remark that the port has now remained opposite you for exactly four minutes of time, for three of which my goblet has been empty."

"I think it's cruel," said Jill, pa.s.sing on the decanter. "I think----"

"Hush," said Berry. "That wonderful organ, my brain, is working."

Rapidly he began to write upon the back of a _menu_. "We must inform the world through the medium of the Press. An attractive paragraph must appear in _The Times_. What could be more appropriate than an epitaph?

Ply me with wine, child. The sage is in labour with a song." Jill filled his gla.s.s and he drank. "Another instant, and you shall hear the deathless words. I always felt I should be buried in the Abbey. Anybody give me a rhyme for 'bilge'? No, it doesn't matter. I have ingeniously circ.u.mvented the crisis."

He added one line, held the card at arm's length, regarded it as a painter a canvas, sighed, and began to read.

_A painful tale I must relate.

We used to live at thirty-eight, But as we hope to go to heaven, We've come to live at number seven.

Now, if we'd lived at number nine, I'd got a simply priceless line-- I didn't want to drag in heaven, But nothing else will rhyme with seven._

"Soldier, mountebank, and rhymester too!" said Jonah. "And yet we breathe the same air."

"I admit it's strange," said my brother-in-law. "But it was foretold by my predecessor. I think you'll find the prophecy in _Henry the Fifth_.

'And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best, Neighboured by fruit of baser quality.' My game, I think. What?"

As was fitting, St. George's Day dawned fair and cloudless. Her pa.s.sionate weeping of the day before dismissed, April was smiling--shyly at first, as if uncertain that her recent waywardness had been forgiven, and by and by so bravely that all the sweet o' the year rose up out of the snowy orchards, dewy and odorous, danced in the gleaming meadows and hung, glowing and breathless, in every swaying nursery that Spring had once more built upon the patient trees.

The Rolls sailed through the country, proudly indifferent to hill or dale, melting the leagues to miles with such swift deadliness as made you sorry for the lean old road that once had been so much to reckon with.

I was on the point of communicating this Quixotic reflection to Agatha Deriot, who was seated in front between Jill and myself, when there fell upon my reluctant ears that heavy sigh which only an expiring tire can heave. As I slowed up, it occurred to me that the puissance of the roads of England was still considerable.

"Which is it?" said Agatha.

"Off hind, I fancy." We were in the midst of a pleasant beechwood, and I pulled in to the side of the road with a grunt. "If it had to be, it might have happened in a less pleasing locality."

"I gather," said Berry's voice, "I gather that something untoward has befallen the automobile. Should I be wrong, correct me and explain the stoppage."

"With that singular clarity of intellect which never fails to recognize the obvious, you have correctly diagnosed the case. We have picked up a puncture."

"Speak for yourself," said Berry. "I always let them lie. I did gather a bunch of bursts once, but----"

"Sorry," said I. "I forgot how near we were to Oxford. What I meant was that some hostile body of a sharp nature had penetrated a tire, thus untimely releasing the air hitherto therein confined."

"Thank you," said Berry. "Experience leads me to antic.i.p.ate a slight delay, the while you effect the necessary repairs. I shall therefore compose myself to slumber and meditation. Possibly I shall toy with a cigarette. Possibly----"

"Your programme will, I fear, miscarry for more than one reason. In the first place, you're sitting on the jack. In the second place, clumsy fool though you are, Jonah can change the wheel quicker if you help him." With that I climbed out of the driver's seat, and lighted a cigarette. "Who," I added, "will come for a little walk?"

"I'm coming," said Daphne, setting aside the rug and rising from her seat between Jonah and her husband.

"I forbid you," said the latter, "to consort with that blasphemous viper."

My sister leaned down and kissed him.

"A little gentle exercise," she said, "will do you good. I expect it'll make you hot, so take your coat off. Then you'll have something to put on again."

Coldly Berry regarded her.

"How long," he said, "did it take you to work that out?"

As we strolled down the sun-flecked road in the wake of Miss Deriot and Jill, I turned and looked back at the car. Something was squatting on the tarmac close to the petrol tank. The fact that Jonah was unstrapping a spare wheel suggested that my brother-in-law was taking exercise....

My sister slid an arm through mine, and we walked idly on. The road curled out of the wood into the unchecked sunlight, rising to where its flas.h.i.+ng hedgerows fell back ten paces each, leaving a fair green ride on either side of the highway. Here jacketed elms made up a stately colonnade, ready to nod their gay green crests at each stray zephyr's touch, and throwing broad equidistant bars of shadow across the fresh turf and the still moist ribbon of metalling beyond. Two piles of stones lay heaped upon the sward, and, as we drew near, we heard the busy c.h.i.n.k of a stone-breaker's hammer, a melodious sound that fitted both morning and venue to perfection. Again I fell to thinking on the old coach road....

The stone-breaker was an old, old man, but the tone in which he gave us "Good day" was blithe and good to hear, while he looked as fit as a fiddle.