play unerringly you would not play at all. The moment the game is perfect the game disappears."
"I do not think, however," said Parkinson, "that you are in any immediate danger of effecting that sort of destruction. I do not think your croquet will vanish through its own faultless excellence. You are safe for the present."
I again caressed him with the mallet, knocked a ball about, wired myself, and resumed the thread of my discourse.
The long, warm evening had been gradually closing in, and by this time it was almost twilight. By the time I had delivered four more fundamental principles, and my companion had gone through five more hoops, the dusk was verging upon dark.
"We shall have to give this up," said Parkinson, as he missed a ball almost for the first time, ' I can't see a thing."
"Nor can I," I answered, "and it is a comfort to reflect that I could not hit anything if I saw it."
With that I struck a ball smartly, and sent it away into the darkness towards where the shadowy figure of Parkinson moved in the hot haze. Parkinson immediately uttered a loud and dramatic cry. The situation, indeed, called for it. I had hit the right ball.
Stunned with astonishment, I crossed the gloomy ground, and hit my ball again. It went through a
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