boule

   , or hot-water bottle.

   A portable stove.

   A travelling kitchen-range.

   A medicine chest.

   A complete set of Ollendorff.

   Ten thousand pots of Dundee marmalade. And such other articles as she deemed essential to her comfort and safety during the expedition. In vain I urged that our motto was

    Rescue and Retire

   , and that such elaborate preparations might prevent our retiring from our native shore, and therefore make rescue exceedingly problematical.

   My Tory mother only answered by quoting the example of Lord Wolseley and the Nile Expedition.

   'How long did

    they

   tarry among the pots—the marmalade pots?' said my mother. 'Did

    they

   start before every mess had its proper share of extra teaspoons in case of accident, and a double supply of patent respirators for the drummer-boys, and of snow-shoes for the Canadian boatmen in case the climate proved uncertain?'

   My mother's historical knowledge, and the unique example of provident and exhaustive equipment which she cited, reduced me to silence, but did not diminish my anxiety. The delay made me nervous, excited, and chippy.

   To-morrow morning we were to start.

   To-morrow morning was too late.

   With an effort I opened the morning paper—the

    Morning Post

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