Lazy Thoughts of a Lazy Girl: Sister of that "Idle Fellow." — John Shaqi
Lazy Thoughts of a Lazy Girl: Sister of that "Idle Fellow."Wren, Jenny
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Lazy Thoughts of a Lazy Girl: Sister of that "Idle Fellow."
Wren, Jenny
English essays
First the secretary rose, ran off a quantity of statistics, as to what
had been done by the great League, what it was going to do, and how
many converts had been induced to join, which was exceedingly
uninteresting, I think, but which elicited loud applause from the rest
of the audience. Then some resolution was passed, at which if you
agreed you were begged "to signify the same in the usual way." After
which those who thought differently were asked to show their feelings
in the same fashion. I held my hand up here, but I suppose the ruling
councillor did not expect any opposition, for he never even looked
round to see, but gabbled off by rote, "On the contrary? carried
unanimously!" and my amiable attempt at running counter to the rest
was not even noticed!
Then the ruling councillor gave way to Mr. ---- (here a sickly smile
was directed at the great man), who had so very kindly come to speak
to us this evening, who would, he felt sure, quite enchant us with
his--er--great eloquence (another leer to his right).
The great man then came forward, and with a superior smile on his
countenance waited until the applause which greeted his entrance had
ceased, and then began. He commenced somewhat softly, detailing all
the advantages of the Primrose League: what it had done for England,
the fear it arouses in the heart of the Liberal faction, how it will
raise the country to a summit it never before has reached! No! and
never would have reached had it not been for this flourishing, this
powerful League! &c., &c., &c. His voice gradually grew louder and
louder until, with beating his hands on the table, stamping violently
over the sins of the Radicals, and perspiring vehemently in the
effort, he presented anything but a pleasing spectacle.
Of course animation like this brought down the house. The applause
nearly deafened me, and I was quite glad when he drew near the end of
his most tedious speech. He concluded by calming down very suddenly,
returned to his original tones, and thanking his audience for his
exceedingly kind reception, retired to his seat looking, as Mr.
Mantalini would say, a "dem'd damp, moist, unpleasant body."
Then up rose the ruling councillor, and called us all to pass a vote
of thanks to the "gifted orator." Someone seconded it, and the great
man came forward again to thank us for thanking him. A sort of "So
glad, I'm glad, you're glad" business, it seemed to me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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