at the Town Hall might possibly be a trifle rowdy.

All political meetings are very much alike. Somebody gets up and
introduces the speaker of the evening, and then the speaker of the
evening says at great length what he thinks of the scandalous manner in
which the Government is behaving or the iniquitous goings-on of the
Opposition. From time to time confederates in the audience rise and ask
carefully rehearsed questions, and are answered fully and
satisfactorily by the orator. When a genuine heckler interrupts, the
orator either ignores him, or says haughtily that he can find him
arguments but cannot find him brains. Or, occasionally, when the
question is an easy one, he answers it. A quietly conducted political
meeting is one of England's most delightful indoor games. When the
meeting is rowdy, the audience has more fun, but the speaker a good
deal less.

Mr Bickersdyke's introducer was an elderly Scotch peer, an excellent
man for the purpose in every respect, except that he possessed a very
strong accent.

The audience welcomed that accent uproariously. The electors of
Kenningford who really had any definite opinions on politics were
fairly equally divided. There were about as many earnest Liberals as
there were earnest Unionists. But besides these there was a strong
contingent who did not care which side won. These looked on elections
as Heaven-sent opportunities for making a great deal of noise. They
attended meetings in order to extract amusement from them; and they
voted, if they voted at all, quite irresponsibly. A funny story at the
expense of one candidate told on the morning of the polling, was quite
likely to send these brave fellows off in dozens filling in their