At that time, although in his twenty-first year, this lad twice had
been made a question in the House of Commons.

That in itself had rendered him conspicuous. When you consider
out of Great Britain's four hundred million subjects how many live,
die, and are buried without at any age having drawn down upon
themselves the anger of the House of Commons, to have done so
twice, before one has passed his twenty-first year, seems to
promise a lurid future.

The first time Churchill disturbed the august assemblage in which
so soon he was to become a leader was when he "ragged" a brother
subaltern named Bruce and cut up his saddle and accoutrements.
The second time was when he ran away to Cuba to fight with the
Spaniards.

After this campaign, on the first night of his arrival in London, he
made his maiden speech. He delivered it in a place of less dignity
than the House of Commons, but one, throughout Great Britain
and her colonies, as widely known and as well supported. This was
the Empire Music Hall.

At the time Mrs. Ormiston Chant had raised objections to the
presence in the Music Hall of certain young women, and had
threatened, unless they ceased to frequent its promenade, to have
the license of the Music Hall revoked. As a compromise, the
management ceased selling liquor, and on the night Churchill
visited the place the bar in the promenade was barricaded with
scantling and linen sheets. With the thirst of tropical Cuba still
upon him, Churchill asked for a drink, which was denied him, and