Vanishing Coat

David Lloyd George was dining at the Savoy. His white Welsh mustache trembled slightly as he masticated a chop. In his pocket was an ordinary overcoat check; but the attendant, awed, had hung the coat in a closet distinct from the common coatroom. . . .

Minutes passed. Dessert was passing in under the white mustache. Then suddenly the doorman of the Savoy snapped to attention as Mr. Lloyd George's coat passed over the threshold, a hat jammed down over the collar, two shabby trouser legs oscillating beneath. . . .

"Stop thief!" cried the coatroom attendant, having discovered that Statesman Lloyd George was still at his dessert. "Stop thief!"

A moment later, Mr. Lloyd George, comfortably replete, heard from the man who had stolen his coat piteous words: "Lor', Guv'nor, Hi didn't knaow 'twus yern. ... Hi cadged hit cuz Hi wus caold. . . . S'help me, Guv'nor, Hi did!"

"Let him go," said Liberal David Lloyd George.