"
"Impossible," said the soldier, "unless it's a cheque-book. There I'm
with you."
"No, a book--a real book. Small, I admit, but real. And I believe I
can make you agree with me. I'm full of it, because I discovered the
need of it only this last week-end."
"Well, what is it to be called?" the sceptic asked.
"I think a good title would be, _Have I Put Everything in?_"
"Sounds like a manual of bayonet exercise," said the soldier, and he
made imaginary lunges at imaginary Huns.
"Very well then, to prevent ambiguity call it _Have I Left Anything
Out?_ The sub-title would be 'A Guide to Packing,' or 'The
Week-Ender's Friend.'"
"Ah!" said the other, beginning to be interested.
"With such a book," the _flaneur_ continued, "you could never, as
I did on Saturday, arrive at a house without any pyjamas, because
you would find pyjamas in the list, and directly you came to them
you would shove them in. That would be the special merit of the
book--that you would get, out of wardrobes and drawers and off the
dressing-table, the things it mentioned as you read them and shove
them in."
"You would hold the book in the left hand," said the soldier, with
almost as much excitement as though he were the author, "and pack with
the right. That's the way."
"Yes, that's the way. It would be only a little book--like a
vest-pocket diary--but it would be priceless.
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