He got in at Peterborough; I spotted him at once by the way he talked to
the porter.
He sat down heavily and looked round the carriage for victims. I was
doomed. The only other passenger in it had been asleep since Grantham.
I snatched up my paper and buried my head in it and shut my eyes. Ten
seconds elapsed.
"I beg your pardon, Sir----"
"Not at all," I said gruffly.
"But your paper's upside down."
"Yes. I always read papers upside down. I'm ambidextrous."
Ten seconds more silence.
"What do you think of this weather we're having?"
"Nothing," I said curtly. I gave up the paper in despair and looked hard
out of the window. I knew the man was staring at me and compassing a new
attack.
He leant over at last.
"Now, what are your views on Ulster?"
I couldn't say "Nothing" again; but, even so, I retained some presence of
mind.
"I am a convinced Home Ruler, and I never argue," I snapped.
"I happen to have gone into the question pretty thoroughly," he began.
About ten minutes later he stopped talking and looked at me triumphantly.
"Now, what answer have you to that?" he said.
"None," I admitted.
"But you said----"
"I'm a convinced Anti-Home Ruler."
"But just now you said----"
"I know. But you've convinced me."
He snorted violently and relapsed into a moody silence until the other man
awoke at Finsbury Park.
* * * * *
The Vicar of St. John's, Carlisle (_The Carlisle Journal_ tells us), in
moving the adoption of the past year's accounts, said:--
"About L9 was saved through not paying the choir-boys, and the result
had been most satisfactory."
The note of satisfaction in the choir-boys' voices is said to be very
touching.
* * * * *