and the Bletherwitch
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see. They were wondering what they should do when the policeman cried out:—
“Come along there! Now then, move on!” How rude of him. However, they “moved on,” and were nearly knocked down by the Zankiwank, who darted into the post-office to receive a telegram and to send one in reply.
They followed him, of course; they knew the telegram was from the Bletherwitch, and the Zankiwank read it out to them:—
“Fashions in bonnets changed. Have ordered six mops. Don’t forget the cauliflower. Postpone the wedding at once. No cards.”
“Now what does that mean,” murmured the expectant bridegroom. “My Bletherwitch cannot be well. I’ll send her some cough lozenges.” So he wrote a reply and despatched it:—
“Take some cough drops every five minutes. Have ordered cucumber for supper. Pay the cabman and come by electricity.”
