On the
other hand, if the collection includes rejected manuscripts, income or
other tax demand notes, tracts or circulars, then I hear the low growl with
which Timon customarily goes into action, and the next moment the postman
is making for the neighbouring county and taking a four-foot gate in his
stride.
Consequently it is to be anticipated that if the Olympic Games are ever
held in our neighbourhood the sprint and the hurdles will be simply at the
mercy of our local post-office. They take no credit for it. It is simply
practice, they say.
But, to return to the main subject, we have lost Timon. One month has
passed without his cheery presence at Bellevue. Reckless postmen have made
themselves free of the front garden and all colour has gone out of life.
We have done everything to win him back. We have inserted numerous
advertisements in the agony columns of the newspapers: "If this should
catch the eye of Timon," or "Come back, Timon. All will be forgiven;" but
apparently we have yet to find his favourite newspaper.
We began with the well-known canine papers, trusting vainly that he might
happen to glance through them some day when he was a bit bored or hadn't an
engagement. After that we went through _The Times_, _The Morning Post_
(he's strongly anti-Bolshevik), _The Daily News_ (his views on vivisection
are notorious) and other dailies, and then took to the weeklies.
We had strong hopes for a time that _The Meat Trade Review_ would find him.
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