When, at a quarter to three, the Mayor left the Club, he linked his
arm in that of Alderman Murrell, whose famous shop stood cheek by jowl
with the City Hall at the other side of Market Square. As they came
slowly down the steps, both gentlemen had a sense not merely of having
lunched, but also of having done ample justice to the affairs of the
nation. But amid the press of sharp realities into which they slowly
projected themselves, they were soon aware that the affairs of the
nation were still in the foreground of the picture. Above Market Square
a monstrous air-ship still hovered, on whose Gargantuan belly the magic
letters U. P. were clearly visible. And at that moment, dashing across
the great Square itself, was a familiar mustard-colored contraption,
with the legend “First with the News as Usual” flaring above it. The
news was heralded by a large placard hung at the tail of the machine.
“Aunt Mittie to address Charwoman’s Conference” was its cryptic nature.
To the initiate, however, the “news” was not without significance.
And Sir Munt and the worthy Alderman were themselves at the brink of
enlightenment. As slowly and with a touch of pomp they descended the
Club steps, for the awed eyes of ordinary workaday citizens were upon
them, a shower of small white leaflets fell from the sky. It was a part
and only a trivial part of the U. P. propaganda but the general effect
was remarkably like a stage snowstorm. Indeed, Sir Munt emitted a quiet
“very pretty” as he stooped augustly to retrieve one of these handbills
which had fluttered and rotated to its long home at the bottom of the
Club steps.
Sir Munt always liked to speak of himself as a _practical_ man.
Therefore, with an air of supreme nonchalance, the chief magistrate
paused amid the citizens to adjust his eyeglasses.
The handbill gave the following information: