THE THREAT


Sir Lulworth Quayne sat in the lounge of his favourite restaurant, the
Gallus Bankiva, discussing the weaknesses of the world with his nephew,
who had lately returned from a much-enlivened exile in the wilds of
Mexico. It was that blessed season of the year when the asparagus and
the plover's egg are abroad in the land, and the oyster has not yet
withdrawn into it's summer entrenchments, and Sir Lulworth and his nephew
were in that enlightened after-dinner mood when politics are seen in
their right perspective, even the politics of Mexico.

"Most of the revolutions that take place in this country nowadays," said
Sir Lulworth, "are the product of moments of legislative panic. Take,
for instance, one of the most dramatic reforms that has been carried
through Parliament in the lifetime of this generation. It happened
shortly after the coal strike, of unblessed memory. To you, who have
been plunged up to the neck in events of a more tangled and tumbled
description, the things I am going to tell you of may seem of secondary
interest, but after all we had to live in the midst of them."

Sir Lulworth interrupted himself for a moment to say a few kind words to
the liqueur brandy he had just tasted, and them resumed his narrative.

"Whether one sympathises with the agitation for female suffrage or not
one has to admit that its promoters showed tireless energy and
considerable enterprise in devising and putting into action new methods