lit enthusiasm. One day he threw the bundle of typescript across to
Paul.

"See what you think of that."

Paul saw and made daring pencilled amendments, and took it to the
Colonel.

"It's all very funny," said the latter, tugging his drooping
moustache, "but I can't say things like that in the House."

"Why not?" asked Paul.

"If they heard me make an epigram, they would have a fit."

"Our side wouldn't. The Government might. The Government ought to
have fits all the time until it expires in convulsions."

"But this is a mere dull agricultural question. The Board of
Agriculture have brought it in, and it's such pernicious nonsense
that I, as a county gentleman, have to speak against it."

"But couldn't you stick in my little joke about the pigs?" asked
Paul pleadingly.

"What's that?" Colonel Winwood found the place in the script. "I say
that the danger of swine fever arising from this clause in the Bill
will affect every farmer in England."

"And I say," cried Paul eagerly, pointing to his note, "if this