"By Jove!" I exclaim.
"What is it?" asks the Confused Captain, looking up from his MS.
"'Padding,'" I reply--"Only add a 'ton' to it, and that will give it
just the weight I require. Don't you see?" I ask him, impetuously.
But he merely shakes his head, and lugs at his moustache. I explain
the idea, as if it were a charade. I say, "The whole notion is
'padding--ton.' See?"
The Ruminating Reader thinks it won't do. "Yes it will," I urge--"it
will lighten it up. Who wants statistics without anecdote? Now
for an anecdote; and I knock one off, _sur le champ_, about the
engine-driver, the stoker, and several other persons, all on the
look-out for promotion, informing me of their being _Paddington men
of considerable political influence at home_. The Cautious Captain
accepts the anecdote, interpolates it, and after I have called for and
imbibed another tumbler of 'my own partik,' and lighted another cigar,
the Conscientious Captain resumes his entertainment."