The Right Stuff | Page 8

a book-maker's tout on
my doorstep.
Number Two.--Oxford: a First in Greats. A heavy manner, usually
beginning his observations with "Wherewithal" or "Peradventure." The
Twins suffered severely from suppressed giggles in his presence.
Regarded my superficial ideas of statesmanship with profound
contempt, but left after a fortnight, having allowed a highly confidential
and extremely personal pencil note, written in the margin of a despatch
by the Premier himself, to blossom forth in large type in the text of a
Blue Book.
Number Three.--Rather elderly for the post--nearer forty than
thirty--but highly recommended. Reduced my chaotic papers to order in
twenty-four hours, charmed my wife and her sisters, drafted a speech
which won me quite a little ovation in the House, suggested several
notable improvements in the "Importation of Mad Dogs Bill," with
which I was to be entrusted next session--and was found lying dead
drunk in his bedroom, at eleven o'clock in the morning, on the second
Sunday after his arrival. Half a dozen empty brandy bottles were
afterwards discovered on the top of his wardrobe. Poor devil!
Number Four.--(Subsequently handed down to posterity as "The
Limit"). Small, spectacled, and nervous. Came from a Welsh
University, and was strong on "the methodical filing of State and other
documents." He stayed two days. On the first night (after inquiring
whether we were expecting guests that evening, and receiving an
answer in the negative) he came down to dinner in a sort of alpaca

smoking-jacket and a tartan tie. On the second, having evidently
decided to treat us to all the resources of his wardrobe as soon as
possible, he appeared in more or less ordinary evening attire. He wore a
small white satin bow-tie, attached to his collar-stud by a brass clip.
The tie fell off the stud into his soup almost immediately, and its owner,
after furtively chasing it round the plate with his forefinger, finally
fished it out with the aid of a fork; and, having squeezed as much soup
as possible back into the plate, put the bow into his waistcoat pocket
and resumed his meal with every appearance of enjoyment.
He left next morning. As the Twins pathetically observed: "It had to be
him or us!" I was sorry, for he was a tidy little creature away from
table.
After that I did a rash thing. I engaged a Private Secretary on the spur
of the moment and without consulting my household.
One morning I had occasion to visit the British Museum. That
mausoleum of learning is not an habitual resort of mine, but on this
occasion I had found it necessary to refresh my memory on the subject
of a small principality situated somewhere in the Pacific, and reported
to be in a state of considerable unrest, concerning which the member
for Upper Gumbtree, an unpleasantly omniscient young man with a
truculent manner, had been asking questions in the House. It seemed
that British interests in that quarter were not being adequately protected
by our Department, and this extremely pushing gentleman was now
gaining much cheap applause in the columns of those low-priced
organs which make a living by deriding his Majesty's Ministers, by
bombarding us with fatuous inquiries on the subject. My Chief had
only the most hazy notion about the place--as a matter of fact I do not
believe that either he or any of the permanent officials had ever heard
of it--and I was in a precisely similar condition. I was accordingly
bidden to get up the subject, and accumulate a mass of information
thereon which would not only satiate the appetite of the honourable
member, but choke him off for all time.
Finding myself in want of a particular Gazetteer which was not to be
found in the office, and being in no mood to take a clerk, however

uncritical, into my confidence, I called a hansom and drove straight to
the Museum; where, having ensconced myself in the reading-room with
the work in question, I prepared to devote a dusty and laborious
morning to the service of State.
Immediately opposite me sat a gigantic young man of a slightly
threadbare appearance, who was copying some screed out of a bulky
tome before him. I regarded him in a reminiscent sort of way for a few
minutes, and presently found that my scrutiny was being returned
fourfold. Next came an enormous hand that was suddenly thrust across
the table towards me, and I remembered him.
We had met six years ago in a railway train, under circumstances which
made me extremely glad to make his acquaintance at any price. Kitty
and I were on our honeymoon, and happened to be travelling on a
Saturday afternoon from Edinburgh to Perth in a train packed to
suffocation with the supporters of a football team of the