Chapter II

_The Lewisham and Lee Mail with which is incorporated the Catford Advertiser_--to give the newspaper its fullest title--is a journal well worthy of perusal. You may think, you superior folk who are connected with Fleet Street journalism, that outside of high politics, wars and sensational divorce cases, nothing interests the general reader--but you are mistaken.

There is a column in the _Lewisham and Lee Mail_ sapiently headed "On Dit" and wittily signed "I Noe" (which really is a subtle play on the words "I know" and as such, distinctly clever).

I give you a clipping and reproduce it as nearly as possible in facsimile.

ON DIT.

That Miss Cecilia Downs took the first prize at St. John's Chrysanthemum Show. We heartily congratulate the young lady.

* * *

That there was a scene at the Borough Council Meeting when Councillor Hogg demanded particulars about the paving contract. Why wash dirty linen in public?

* * *

Go to Storey's for your boots: a grand new stock.

* * *

That our distinguished neighbour the Duc de Montvillier is returning from America next week. What an acquisition he would be to the Borough Council!!

* * *

When is the Council going to take up the question of the lighting of Tabar Street?

At present the road is a positive disgrace to civilization.

* * *

Compare Storey's prices with elsewhere!

Boys' School Boots a speciality--never wear out!

* * *

Mr. Roderick Nape read a paper before the Broadway Literary Society on Saturday entitled "Criminals I have Met." It was enthusiastically received.

* * *

James Toms, described as a labourer, was charged at Greenwich with stealing an overcoat, the property of Mr. J. B. Sands, of Tressillian Crescent--three months.

* * *

Dancing shoes from 2s. 11d. Goloshes for the wet weather from 1s. 11d. Storey's for fair prices and civility.

This is the briefest extract, the merest glimpse of the moving pageant that fills the suburban stage. It leaves much to the imagination--the elation of Mr. Nape, the enthusiasm of his audience, the tragedy of James Toms, described as a labourer, and his downfall.

If the truth be told, the minor happenings of life are of infinite interest to the people who are responsible for the happenings. Councillor A. Smith who makes a speech on the new drainage system, is considerably more interested in his brief quarter of a column than would be Mr. A. J. Balfour under similar circumstances.

If I have a fault to find with local journalism, it is that it is far too reticent regarding the personal side of its news. For instance "I Noe" duly reported that Sir Henry Tanneur, "our respected prospective member," had acquired large freehold interests in the neighbourhood, but he failed most ignobly to record the fact that No. 64 Kymott Crescent and all that messuage, had been bought by Sir Harry in the Duke's absence, and that Sir Harry's agent had served Hank with a notice to quit.

Hank, occupying the garden step ladder in the unavoidable absence of the Duke, found a sympathetic audience in the girl next door.

"I think uncle has behaved disgracefully!" she said shortly, "I have never heard of anything so paltry, so intensely and disagreeably mean, it is petty----"

Hank was very solemn and very cautious.

"It's a mighty serious business ejecting a duke," he said. "I sent Cole down to the free library to get a book on the feudal customs, and I've just read that old book from startin' gate to judges' wire, and there's nothin' doin' about firin' dukes--or duchesses," he added.

Alicia changed the subject with incoherent rapidity.

"What will you do?" she asked hastily.

"Do?" Hank's eyebrows rose at the preposterous question. "Do? Why I guess we'll just stay on."

"But my uncle will serve you with a writ of ejectment," she persisted.

Hank shook his head.

"I don't know her," he confessed, "but she must be geared up to shift the Duke. She must be well oiled an' run on ball bearin's, an' be triple expansion 'fore an' aft to make him budge. And if she misses fire once, it's down and out for hers. I don't know any writ of ejectment that was ever cast, that could lift the Duke when he was once planted."

Hank shook his head with an air of finality.

"Our new landlord ought to be warned," he said. "Some one ought to tell him. It ain't fair--he doesn't know Dukey."

A bright thought struck him.

"I'll warn him," he said and grew cheerful at the prospect.