coming with the most pleasant anticipations. We seemed from his
books to know him already as an old friend. In fact I think I do
not exaggerate when I tell Mr. Learoyd that his name in our city
has long been a household word. I have very, very great pleasure,
ladies and gentlemen, in introducing to you Mr. Learoyd."

As far as I know that chairman never knew his error. At the close of
my lecture he said that he was sure that the audience "were deeply
indebted to Mr. Learoyd," and then with a few words of rapid, genial
apology buzzed off, like a humming bird, to other avocations. But I
have amply forgiven him: anything for kindness and geniality; it
makes the whole of life smooth. If that chairman ever comes to my
home town he is hereby invited to lunch or dine with me, as Mr.
Learoyd or under any name that he selects.

Such a man is, after all, in sharp contrast to the kind of chairman
who has no native sense of the geniality that ought to accompany
his office. There is, for example, a type of man who thinks that
the fitting way to introduce a lecturer is to say a few words about
the finances of the society to which he is to lecture (for money)
and about the difficulty of getting members to turn out to hear
lectures.

Everybody has heard such a speech a dozen times. But it is the paid
lecturer sitting on the platform who best appreciates it. It runs
like this:

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, before I invite the lecturer of the
evening to address us there are a few words that I would like to say.
There are a good many members who are in arrears with their fees. I