268 
MAGICK WITHOUT TEARS 
chock-a-block with moral lesson and economic theories and 
political summats; but there 's coincidence in it somewhere, 
and under coincidence down it shall go. Even if only by 
coincidence. 
From 1895 e.v. onwards I dealt with Colin Lunn. 
Of all the tobacconists under the sun, 
There is none, there is none, like the great Colin Lunn-
of Sidney Street, Cambridge. When I started round the world, 
alas for fidelity! I began to forget him. By 1906 e.v. the 
operation was practically complete . 
In '42 e.v. I spent a few days with friends in Cambridge. 
Sauntering along K.P. (King's Parade to you , madam!) on my 
way back to the station with half an hour or so to kill, I 
thought I would pop in to Lunn's new shop there , and pass 
the time of day. He might have something to take my fancy. 
So I did. Needless to say, I didn't know the shopman from 
Adam, as he did not offer me a view of his identification 
mark. I asked after old friends ; we gossiped of old times and 
new; presently he observed, putting a hand under the 
counter: "I think this is yours sir." "How do you know who 
I am? I've never seen you before." "Oh , yes sir, I was the 
odd-job boy at the old Sidney Street shop ; I remember you 
quite well." By this time there lay on the co un ter a strange 
familiar-unfamiliar object-a pipe that I had left for some 
minor repair before hurrying off to the East 37 years before! 
I am smoking it now. 
And you can draw your own beastly conclusion! 
No, I have not forgotten that I am here to instruct as well 
as to amuse: also, to make certain observations which will, I 
flatter myself, be rather new to you. 
Everything 
that 
happens , no matter 
what, is an 
inconceivably improbable coincidence. You remember how 
you had to begin when you first came to me for help. I said 
to you, "Here are you, and no other person, come to see me,