Punch, or the London Charivari

"I shall tell Chris what you've been saying," said Cecilia.

John jumped.

"No, no, Cecilia," he said in a strangled voice. "Don't betray me. I--I'm sorry; I withdraw everything. Cecilia, save me. Think of our courting days; remember--"

"Christopher," said Cecilia clearly, "you see your father? Go and pull his last remaining hairs out."

Christopher looked at her in amazement. Then he walked over to John, climbed on his knee and put an arm round his neck.

"I wouldn't hurt you, dear old Dad, would I?" he asked affectionately, looking at his mother in pained surprise.

John positively gasped with relief.

"Dear old Chris," he said.

"Oh, you hypocrite!" said Cecilia.

"Coward!" said I.

I was sitting on one of those dumpy hassock sort of things. John looked down at me vindictively for a moment and then a horrid smile started spreading about his nasty face.

"Christopher," he said very gently, "wouldn't it be a good thing if