A Bread and Butter Miss

by H.H. Munro (SAKI)

　　

---

"Starling Chatter and Oakhill have both dropped back in the betting,"said Bertie van Tahn, throwing the morning paper across the breakfasttable. "That leaves Nursery Tea practically favourite," said Odo Finsberry. "Nursery Tea and Pipeclay are at the top of the betting at present," saidBertie, "but that French horse, Le Five O'Clock, seems to be fancied asmuch as anything. Then there is Whitebait, and the Polish horse with aname like some one trying to stifle a sneeze in church; they both seem tohave a lot of support." "It's the most open Derby there's been for years," said Odo. "It's simply no good trying to pick the winner on form," said Bertie;"one must just trust to luck and inspiration." "The question is whether to trust to one's own inspiration, or somebodyelse's. _Sporting Swank_ gives Count Palatine to win, and Le FiveO'Clock for a place." "Count Palatine--that adds another to our list of perplexities. Goodmorning, Sir Lulworth; have you a fancy for the Derby by any chance?" "I don't usually take much interest in turf matters," said Sir Lulworth,who had just made his appearance, "but I always like to have a bet on theGuineas and the Derby. This year, I confess, it's rather difficult topick out anything that seems markedly better than anything else. What doyou think of Snow Bunting?" "Snow Bunting?" said Odo, with a groan, "there's another of them. Surely,Snow Bunting has no earthly chance?" "My housekeeper's nephew, who is a shoeing-smith in the mounted sectionof the Church Lads' Brigade, and an authority on horseflesh, expects himto be among the first three." "The nephews of housekeepers are invariably optimists," said Bertie;"it's a kind of natural reaction against the professional pessimism oftheir aunts." "We don't seem to get much further in our search for the probablewinner," said Mrs. de Claux; "the more I listen to you experts the morehopelessly befogged I get." "It's all very well to blame us," said Bertie to his hostess; "youhaven't produced anything in the way of an inspiration." "My inspiration consisted in asking you down for Derby week," retortedMrs. de Claux; "I thought you and Odo between you might throw some lighton the question of the moment." Further recriminations were cut short by the arrival of Lola Pevensey,who floated into the room with an air of gracious apology. "So sorry to be so late," she observed, making a rapid tour of inspectionof the breakfast dishes. "Did you have a good night?" asked her hostess with perfunctorysolicitude. "Quite, thank you," said Lola; "I dreamt a most remarkable dream." A flutter, indicative of general boredom; went round the table. Otherpeople's dreams are about as universally interesting as accounts of otherpeople's gardens, or chickens, or children. "I dreamt about the winner of the Derby," said Lola. A swift reaction of attentive interest set in. "Do tell us what you dreamt," came in a chorus. "The really remarkable thing about it is that I've dreamt it two nightsrunning," said Lola, finally deciding between the allurements of sausagesand kedgeree; "that is why I thought it worth mentioning. You know, whenI dream things two or three nights in succession, it always meanssomething; I have special powers in that way. For instance, I oncedreamed three times that a winged lion was flying through the sky and oneof his wings dropped off, and he came to the ground with a crash; justafterwards the Campanile at Venice fell down. The winged lion is thesymbol of Venice, you know," she added for the enlightenment of those whomight not be versed in Italian heraldry. "Then," she continued, "justbefore the murder of the King and Queen of Servia I had a vivid dream oftwo crowned figures walking into a slaughter-house by the banks of a bigriver, which I took to be the Danube; and only the other day--" "Do tell us what you've dreamt about the Derby," interrupted Odoimpatiently. "Well, I saw the finish of the race as clearly as anything; and one horsewon easily, almost in a canter, and everybody cried out 'Bread and Butterwins! Good old Bread and Butter.' I heard the name distinctly, and I'vehad the same dream two nights running." "Bread and Butter," said Mrs. de Claux, "now, whatever horse can thatpoint to? Why--of course; Nursery Tea!" She looked round with the triumphant smile of a successful unraveller ofmystery. "How about Le Five O'Clock?" interposed Sir Lulworth. "It would fit either of them equally well," said Odo; "can you rememberany details about the jockey's colours? That might help us." "I seem to remember a glimpse of lemon sleeves or cap, but I can't besure," said Lola, after due reflection. "There isn't a lemon jacket or cap in the race," said Bertie, referringto a list of starters and jockeys; "can't you remember anything about theappearance of the horse? If it were a thick-set animal, this bread andbutter would typify Nursery Tea; and if it were thin, of course, it wouldmean Le Five O'Clock." "That seems sound enough," said Mrs. de Claux; "do think, Lola dear,whether the horse in your dream was thin or stoutly built." "I can't remember that it was one or the other," said Lola; "one wouldn'tnotice such a detail in the excitement of a finish." "But this was a symbolic animal," said Sir Lulworth; "if it were totypify thick or thin bread and butter surely it ought to have been eitheras bulky and tubby as a shire cart-horse; or as thin as a heraldicleopard." "I'm afraid you are rather a careless dreamer," said Bertie resentfully. "Of course, at the moment of dreaming I thought I was witnessing a realrace, not the portent of one," said Lola; "otherwise I should haveparticularly noticed all helpful details." "The Derby isn't run till to-morrow," said Mrs. de Claux; "do you thinkyou are likely to have the same dream again to-night? If so; you can fixyour attention on the important detail of the animal's appearance." "I'm afraid I shan't sleep at all to-night," said Lola pathetically;"every fifth night I suffer from insomnia, and it's due to-night." "It's most provoking," said Bertie; "of course, we can back both horses,but it would be much more satisfactory to have all our money on thewinner. Can't you take a sleeping-draught, or something?" "Oakleaves, soaked in warm water and put under the bed, are recommendedby some," said Mrs. de Claux. "A glass of Benedictine, with a drop of eau-de-Cologne--" said SirLulworth. "I have tried every known remedy," said Lola, with dignity; "I've been amartyr to insomnia for years." "But now we are being martyrs to it," said Odo sulkily; "I particularlywant to land a big coup over this race." "I don't have insomnia for my own amusement," snapped Lola. "Let us hope for the best," said Mrs. de Claux soothingly; "to-night mayprove an exception to the fifth-night rule." But when breakfast time came round again Lola reported a blank night asfar as visions were concerned. "I don't suppose I had as much as ten minutes' sleep, and, certainly, nodreams." "I'm so sorry, for your sake in the first place, and ours as well," saidher hostess; "do you think you could induce a short nap after breakfast?It would be so good for you--and you _might_ dream something. Therewould still be time for us to get our bets on." "I'll try if you like," said Lola; "it sounds rather like a small childbeing sent to bed in disgrace." "I'll come and read the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_ to you if you think itwill make you sleep any sooner," said Bertie obligingly. Rain was falling too steadily to permit of outdoor amusement, and theparty suffered considerably during the next two hours from the absolutequiet that was enforced all over the house in order to give Lola everychance of achieving slumber. Even the click of billiard balls wasconsidered a possible factor of disturbance, and the canaries werecarried down to the gardener's lodge, while the cuckoo clock in the hallwas muffled under several layers of rugs. A notice, "Please do not Knockor Ring," was posted on the front door at Bertie's suggestion, and guestsand servants spoke in tragic whispers as though the dread presence ofdeath or sickness had invaded the house. The precautions proved of noavail: Lola added a sleepless morning to a wakeful night, and the bets ofthe party had to be impartially divided between Nursery Tea and theFrench Colt. "So provoking to have to split out bets," said Mrs. de Claux, as herguests gathered in the hall later in the day, waiting for the result ofthe race. "I did my best for you," said Lola, feeling that she was not getting herdue share of gratitude; "I told you what I had seen in my dreams, a brownhorse, called Bread and Butter, winning easily from all the rest." "What?" screamed Bertie, jumping up from his sea, "a _brown_ horse!Miserable woman, you never said a word about it's being a brown horse." "Didn't I?" faltered Lola; "I thought I told you it was a brown horse. Itwas certainly brown in both dreams. But I don't see what the colour hasgot to do with it. Nursery Tea and Le Five O'Clock are both chestnuts." "Merciful Heaven! Doesn't brown bread and butter with a sprinkling oflemon in the colours suggest anything to you?" raged Bertie. A slow, cumulative groan broke from the assembly as the meaning of hiswords gradually dawned on his hearers. For the second time that day Lola retired to the seclusion of her room;she could not face the universal looks of reproach directed at her whenWhitebait was announced winner at the comfortable price of fourteen toone.

---

---