"And if you _could_ manage not to discuss home rule--"
"I will make an effort."
"On any other topic he will be delighted to hear your views. Chatty
remarks on bimetallism would meet with his earnest attention. A
lecture on what to do with the cold mutton would be welcomed. But not
Ireland, if you don't mind. Shall we go down?"
We got to know one another very well at lunch.
"Do you hunt hens," asked Mr. Chase, who was mixing the salad--he was
one of those men who seem to do everything a shade better than anyone
else, "for amusement or by your doctor's orders?"
"Neither," I said, "and particularly not for amusement. The fact is I
have been lured down here by a friend of mine who has started a
chicken farm--"
I was interrupted. All three of them burst into laughter. Mr. Chase in
his emotion allowed the vinegar to trickle on to the cloth, missing
the salad bowl by a clear two inches.
"You don't mean to tell us," he said, "that you really come from the
one and only chicken farm?"