A Drones Club tale, featuring Freddie Widgeon.

There was no surprise to the Eggs, Beans and Crumpets in the Drones Club that Freddie Widgeon was contemplating joining the French Foreign Legion. "Beau Widgeon? What ho!" an Egg remarked. After his last trip to France, Freddie could not be blamed for this desire.

It began when his uncle, Lord Blicester, had been advised by his doctor to take a vacation in the south of France. He asked his nephew, Freddie, to accompany him for company. That Blicester was footing all the bills, Freddie agreed to go, but there was also another reason. Freddie's new flame, a young woman named Drusilla something, lived in Cannes.

Drusilla was opposed to any forms of gambling, smoking and drinking of cocktails. This, of course, hampered Freddie in a way, so he had to indulge in these luxuries on the sly.

In Cannes, Freddie sauntered along the Croisette, enjoying the sunshine, the scenery and looking forward to having tea with Drusilla at the casino later that afternoon. Freddie was looking rather spiffy having pinched an attractive tie from his uncle. A French bloke stopped him and asked if he would care to be a judge for a baby contest, to the tune of 500 francs. Freddie's aversion to infants caused him to politely decline the offer, and went on his way.

It was about this time that a stranger approached him, held out his hands in an "old friends meeting after all these years" manner and yelled "Why hello!" He did not call Freddie by name, but this is common when old friends meet because the years tend to erode away the memory cells. Freddie helloed back and the conversation seemed to weigh heavy in the stranger's favor, recalling old school days and how he (Freddie) had been his hero.

This, of course, made it harder for Freddie to keep up the small talk because he could not remember this chap, neither face nor name. The fellow then led into what Freddie was expecting, viz. a touch. The stranger told him that of all the things he needed, he had to have a meal in the worst way.

Freddie thought he had said "mille," a thousand francs. He could not let this fellow, stranger though he was, down, especially since he had evidently been his hero. You can't be a hero and let your side down. He told the chap that if he would meet at the casino in a couple of hours, he would give him his mille.

A 1000 francs was about a tenner in English funds, and Freddie remembered a check of this amount that had been sent to him at the hotel. He got the check and had just cashed it when a familiar voice behind him said "Ah" and he knew it to be that of a bookie he owed money and what he was doing here in France was more than he could figure out.

The bookie eyed the francs and Freddie told him he wanted them for a poor man. The bookie said he wanted that, too. Freddie got the hint and handed over 450 francs, leaving him 550. He figured he could lush Drusilla up on 50 francs, but where was he to get the other 500 to give the stranger his mille?

Then he remembered the Frenchman who asked him to judge the baby contest for 500 francs. He went down to the festivities and the fellow still needed him to be a judge. After the proceedings Freddie approached the man to collect when he found how he had misunderstood the 500 francs.

He was not to get paid 500 francs, he was meant to give them 500 francs. Sort of a wealthy benefactor contributing to the cause. He could see that all the mothers of the babies who did not place were quite angry and the bulges in their stockings resembled firearms or knives, so Freddie handed over the 500 francs and allowed the M.C. to escort him to a safe exit.

Now all he had to his name was 50 francs. He went to the casino early to wait for Drusilla and stood near the table watching the game at play. He saw his uncle, Lord Blicester, playing and asked him for a loan, and was told to go to blazes. What made Freddie yell "Banco" he does not know, but it was at a time that suddenly he found he was several francs ahead of himself and the loser was his uncle, which made it all the better.

Freddie did not know exactly how to play this game, but it seemed that as he left his counters he won in place, they were winning. Someone else yelled "Banco" and Freddie was now one mille richer, and the money was his uncle's who was very angry for losing, and at Freddie for causing it.

As Freddie was gathering up his winnings another familiar voice spoke, but not in such a congratulatory manner. It was Drusilla, observing his winnings. As she told him what she thought of his methods, morals and manners, all Freddie could utter was "Oh, ah." She then walked off coldly.

The next voice Freddie heard was that of the old school chum, come to collect his mille. Freddie gladly handed the mille over to the fellow who hastily stuffed his pockets. He thanked Freddie profusely, adding that it was much more than he expected because all he needed was about 50 francs to pay for a meal.

It was now that Freddie could determine the mix-up between "meal" and "mille," though it was too late to ask the chap for his money back. The stranger then said "Thanks, Postlethwaite," which opened up a whole new line of confusion. Freddie asked who Postlethwaite was, and the stranger said it was Freddie, and he knew it was Freddie because he was wearing the old school tie.

Freddie retorted that he was not Postlethwaite and the tie was not his but one he pinched from his uncle. The stranger then burst into laughter about the above mix-up, thanked Freddie for the mille, and left.

Freddie could only stare blankly as he stood there. He had caused his uncle to want to disown him, he had lost the love of his life, he had given away a mille to a total stranger. All that he had left was 50 francs.

He knew at the casino bar that he could get five martinis for this sum, and that is where he headed.