Well, you know what it was once upon a time. There was A BALFOUR--beg
pardon, should say, THE BALFOUR--and DRUMMY WOLFFY, and _De_ GORSTIBUS
_non disputandum_ ("no arguing with GORST"), and self. As good a
quartette, though I say it who shouldn't, as ever sat down to a
concerted piece, with myself as First Fiddle. But now--"Where am dat
barty now?"--I don't know if I quote correctly; quoting correctly is
not my _forte_. "Dat barty," suggests WOLFF; he was the "barty" of our
party, in the merry days of old. Now--none of 'em here, and I with
my ink-stand before me, a pencil, a pen, note-books galore, and any
amount of foolscap, represent "the composition" of our party. I must
get on with my "compo." Is reminds me of doing a "Theme" at Eton. This
is a holiday task. One, two, three, off!--and away!