“I must go and apologize to that old man,” said Mr. Lavender aloud, “for no doubt he is even more distressed than I am.” “Not 'e, guv'nor,” said a voice, and looking beside him he saw the aged driver standing beside him; “not 'e; for of all the crool jobs I ever 'ad—drivin' that 'orse these last three months 'as been the croolest. There 'e lies and 'es aht of it; and that's where they'd all like to be. Speed, done 'im in, savin' 'is country's 'time an' 'is country's oats; that done 'im in. A good old 'orse, a willin' old 'orse, 'as broke 'is 'eart tryin' to do 'is bit on 'alf rations. There 'e lies; and I'm glad 'e does.” And with the back of his hand the old fellow removed some brown moisture which was trembling on his jaw. Mr. Lavender rose from his knees. “Dreadful!—monstrous!” he cried; “poor horse! Who is responsible for this?” “Why,” said the old driver, “the gents as sees it steady and sees it 'ole from one side o' the van, same as you.” So smitten to the heart was Mr. Lavender by those words that he covered his ears with his hands and almost ran from the scene, nor did he stop till he had reached the shelter of his study, and was sitting in his arm-chair with Blink upon his feet. “I will buy a go-cart,” he thought, “Blink and I will pull our weight and save the poor horses. We can at least deliver our own milk and vegetables.” He had not been sitting there for half-an-hour revolving the painful complexities of national life before the voice of Mrs. Petty recalled him from that sad reverie. “Dr. Gobang to see you, sir.” At sight of the doctor who had attended him for alcoholic poisoning Mr. Lavender experienced one or those vaguely disagreeable sensations which follow on half-realized insults. “Good-morning, sir,” said the doctor; “thought I'd just look in and make my mind easy about you. That was a nasty attack. Do you still feel your back?” “No,” said Mr. Lavender rather coldly, while Blink growled. “Nor your head?” “I have never felt my head,” replied Mr. Lavender, still more coldly. “I seem to remember——” began the doctor. “Doctor,” said Mr. Lavender with dignity, “surely you know that public men—do not feel—their heads—it would not do. They sometimes suffer from their throats, but otherwise they have perfect health, fortunately.” The doctor smiled. “Well, what do you think of the war?” he asked chattily.