_Mr. G._ (_roused at last_). What, I'm to cop the push, am I? An'
what _for_, eh? What 'ave I done more than you swells ha' bin doin'
ever since the Elections started? (_To_ Lady N.) You come pokin' into
_our_ 'ouses, without waitin' to be invited, arskin' questions and
soft-sawderin', and leavin' tracks and coloured picters--and we put
up with it all. But as soon as one of _us_ tries it on, what do yer
do?--ring for the Chucker-out! Ah, and reason enough, too--yer know
yer'll get beaten on the argyments! (_Here he is gently but firmly
led out by_ CLARKSON, _and concludes his observations on the' stairs
outside._) Stuck-up, pudden'-'eaded fossils!... battenin' on the
People's brains!... your time'll come some day!... Wait till QUELCH
'ears o' this! &c., &c.

_Lady N._ (_alone_). Thank goodness he's gone!--but _what_ an ordeal!
I really _must_ part with CLARKSON. And--whatever the Primrose
League Council may say--I shall have to tell them I _must_ give up
canvassing. I don't think I _can_ do it any more--after this!

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

"Read it!" said Everyone. "Read what?" asked the Baron. "_The
Wrecker_," answered Everyone. "I will," quoth the Baron, promptly.
And--it was done. It took some time to do, but of this more anon.
The Baron's time is fully occupied, never mind how, but fully, take
his word for it. A copy of _The Wrecker_ was at once provided by its
publishers, Messrs. CASSELL & Co., and the question for the Baron to
consider, was not "What will I do with it?" but How, when, and where,