A motoring acquaintance of the writer's is responsible for the following story, and although we do not know whether the gentleman is a fisherman as well, the yarn is quite good enough on the lines that if it is not true it ought to have been.
Our veracious friend asserts that while on a recent motor tour he and another gentleman put up at a provincial hotel for the night, and after dinner set out in search of the billiard room. They found it in darkness, and after much ringing of bells managed to get someone in to light up the room and mark the game. But it was soon evident that what the "marker" did not know about his work would fill quite a large volume, and the climax was reached when my friend asked for the spider. "Beg pardon, sir" replied the genius in charge of the marking board, "but the hotel's only just been painted up and decorated, so I don't think there's any spiders about. If one of you gent's don't mind looking after the score I'll get a lamp and go down to the stables and see if I can catch one for you."