THE MYSTERY TRIP

By BRYAN GUINNESS

TES ; that's all very well," said Mr. Frogmarsh, " I know I'm lucky to live here at Puddleboume ; it is a lovely place : the woods are justly celebrated ; and just now the bluebells are like water among the tree-trunks : but what I need is a change."

" Well, my dear," replied his devoted wife, " let us go away at once for a nice long holiday."

" Unfortunately, my treasure," answered her husband, " the firm of Tadwater, Duckweed and Frogmarsh cannot dispense with my presence at the moment. Mr. Tadwater and Mr: Duckweed, my estimable partners, have chosen to go and camp in a punt on the Thames for a fortnight : and have decreed, by reason of their seniority, that I must wait for my holiday until August, so that you, my poor wife, must be deprived for the moment of that change you so much need."

"The change that you so much need, dear husband," replied Mrs. Frogmarsh. " You forget that I am never so happy as at home. It is your manly blood that is stirring with the spring, and your complexion that is pierced with spots."

" I was forgetting," said Mr. Frogmarsh, ruefully rubbing his chin. " Where is my yeast ? "

As he quaffed his yeast from the phial, his eyes wandered over the pages of a daily newspaper.

" Look," he said, " now that would be a change. On Saturday, that is tomorrow, the Great Midland Railway are organising a Mystery Trip. The excursion starts at tt a.m. from 'London and the engine driver proceeds under sealed orders to an unknown destination where the excursionists may regale themselves on a packet of sandwiches and the beauties of Nature. Will you come my love ? And would our daughters care to accompany us ? "

Well, if it would be all the same to you," replied Mrs. Fioginarsh, " I would prefer to stay at home. I have prom- ised to sell ginger-beer at our May Day festivities : and so, by the way, have you."

" Gracious me," exclaimed Mr. Frogmarsh, " I must cer- tainly go. I ihall say I have been called away to London on Urgent 1:;usinesi."

" Quite right, my dear : I hope so much you may enjoy yourself." .

" And how about Clarissa and Florinda, my dear daughters ? "

Clarissa and Florinda immediately flung open the doors behind which they were accustomed to listen to the conversa- tion of their parents.

" We can't come, dear Papa," they explained, " for the judge has promised to make one of us Queen of the May."

" Dear me," said Mr. Frcgmarsh, " well, I suppose I must go on my own. And now it is time I was off for the city."

Florinda brought him his hat : Clarissa his gloves : and Mrs. Frogmarsh his umbrella ; and Mr. Frogmarsh set off to catch the business man's train. Puddleboume was soon slipping from his sight, and the familiar landmarks of his daily journey flashed past him one by one. " What a joy it will be," he thought, " to travel tomorrow through a different landscape."

And on the following day his family, all decked out for the May Day celebrations, accompanied him to the station. On the platform they met the vicar and his 'wife.

" Not leaving us today, Mr. Frogmarsh ? " enquired the Vicar. " Tut, tut : whatever shall we do without you ? "

" Alas, dear Vicar," replied our hero, " business calls ; and ,business will be business.'

And so the vicar and his wife expressed their sympathy. They bowed : the stationmaster saluted : and Mrs. Frog- marsh and her daughters waved their handkerchiefs.

Mr. Frogmarsh sat back and smiled slyly to himself at his little deception. Once again the familiar landmarks flashed by, and in his present cheerful mood it did not seem long before he found himself booking a ticket marked " Secret Excursion." A porter courteously directed him to the train. The railway company, he decided, were excelling themselves by the smoothness of their arrangements. He took his seat and found that the passengers were a cheerful collection. How differently they behaved from his habitual companions in the business man's train. As the train started they looked eagerly through the window at the receding station that he knew so well : and none of them so much as possessed a newspaper behind which to hide their faces from the world.

And the face of the girl just opposite to Mr. Frogmarsh was a particularly pretty one. She seemed to be by herself and it was not long before he had engaged her in conversa- tion. She explained that she was indeed by herself, her mother having been stricken with a chill after they had already booked their tickets.

Mr. Frogmarsh suggested that when they arrived at their delectable destination they should cat their sandwiches together. The girl agreed. She was charming. How excellent it was, he decided, to have a change even from so delightful a family as his own.

" What is that river ? " she enquired.

" Oh, that," he explained, " is the Thames. I pass that reach every day on my way to work."

Everyone in the carriage began to discuss where they were going. Certainly this stretch of the line was very familiar to Mr. Frogmarsh. It was disappointing that the new landscapes were so slow to begin.

Then an uneasy suspicion came over Mr. Frogmarsh. What if the train were destined to go through Puddlebourne ? What if he should have to pass patiently by all the landmarks that he saw every day of his life ?

He was filled with such indignation at the thought that he could no longer take full pleasure in the conversation of the lovely girl in front of him. But if the worst came to the worst, and the first part of his journey was to be wasted, he looked forward to making up for lost time when Puddle- bourne should be past.

One by one the familiar landmarks unrolled themselves. At last the spire of Puddlebourne church came in sight. Soon this ridiculous tedium would be over, and the journey into the unknown would begin.

Then, as the train began to slow up, the sickening truth dawned upon him.

" Here we are at last," said the lovely girl in front of him. " I'm so much looking forward to my lunch. What beautiful woods And oh, what wonderful bluebells ! "

Mr. Frogmarsh hoped against hope. Perhaps the station- master would not notice him, and he might slip away unper- ceived into the woods.

But there was the platform now beside them ; and there waiting to meet the train was Florinda, crowned as Queen of the May, Clarissa holding her train, the vicar and his wife, and Mrs. Frogmarsh looking very much embarrassed beside them, all summoned no doubt by the efficiency of the railway company to meet the Mystery Train.

Better death, thought Mr. Frogmarsh, than such humilia- tion : and he lea?ed out through the opposite door to be crushed in the nick of time by the wheels of a passing express.