_Mr. G._ (_roused at last_). What, I'm to cop the push, am I? An' what _for_, eh? What 'ave I done more than you swells ha' bin doin' ever since the Elections started? (_To_ Lady N.) You come pokin' into _our_ 'ouses, without waitin' to be invited, arskin' questions and soft-sawderin', and leavin' tracks and coloured picters--and we put up with it all. But as soon as one of _us_ tries it on, what do yer do?--ring for the Chucker-out! Ah, and reason enough, too--yer know yer'll get beaten on the argyments! (_Here he is gently but firmly led out by_ CLARKSON, _and concludes his observations on the' stairs outside._) Stuck-up, pudden'-'eaded fossils!... battenin' on the People's brains!... your time'll come some day!... Wait till QUELCH 'ears o' this! &c., &c. _Lady N._ (_alone_). Thank goodness he's gone!--but _what_ an ordeal! I really _must_ part with CLARKSON. And--whatever the Primrose League Council may say--I shall have to tell them I _must_ give up canvassing. I don't think I _can_ do it any more--after this! * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. "Read it!" said Everyone. "Read what?" asked the Baron. "_The Wrecker_," answered Everyone. "I will," quoth the Baron, promptly. And--it was done. It took some time to do, but of this more anon. The Baron's time is fully occupied, never mind how, but fully, take his word for it. A copy of _The Wrecker_ was at once provided by its publishers, Messrs. CASSELL & Co., and the question for the Baron to consider, was not "What will I do with it?" but How, when, and where, will I read it? Clearly 'twas no ordinary book. Everybody was saying so, and what Everybody is saying has considerable weight. A book not to be trained through at express pace, so that the beauties of the surrounding scenery would be lost, but something that when once taken up cannot be put down again, like the brass knobs worked by an electric-battery,--something giving you fits and starts, and shocks, as do the electric brass-knobs aforesaid; something that, if you begin it at 4 P.M., exhausts you by dinner-time, and after dinner, keeps you awake till you read the last line at 2 A.M., and then tumble into bed parched, fevered, exhausted, but in ecstasies of delight, feeling as if you were the hero who had experienced all the dangers, and had come out of them triumphantly. [Illustration]