One morning I had been driven to the precarious refuge afforded by the steps of the inn, after rejecting offers from the Celebrity to join him in a variety of amusements. But even here I was not free from interruption, for he was seated on a horse-block below me, playing with a fox terrier.

But these little tunnels, emerging into the open at Finchley Road (reached in 1879) were the start of something big. By the early twentieth century it would be possible to think of them as two mouseholes in the skirting board of a wall separating two great ballrooms.

For the Mandrills live in society, and their bands are so powerful in point of numbers, and so crafty in point of management, that they are about as formidable neighbours as could be imagined.

The board of county commissioneresses was in session.[…]To this decision the commissioneress from the Second district assented but she of the Third protested so strenuously that the chairmaness, somewhat perplexed, called up the county attorneyess for advice on the subject.[…]In the meantime while Mr. Farmer had been paying his taxes the commissioneresses had phoned up the sheriffess and when that lady had made her appearance the chairmaness addressed her saying:[…]