They shuffled and shoved their way to the door with a sort of blind and obstinate impoliteness, fumbling for their tickets, grunting, clearing their throats, and mumbling to themselves like ill-tempered children. As they peered up at me and asked numerous and absurd questions, my irritation increased. They seemed mildly curious and very intent on pushing one another; but there was no trace of enthusiasm in their manner, no spontaneity, no zest. It was as if the whole business was an almost impersonal affair, and when the full eighty-seven were at last seated I saw in a flash what the assembly reminded me of. As I looked at their great, solemn, bewhiskered faces, their gloomy clothes and their stiff, uncomfortable postures it became impossible to shake off the conviction that this was a gathering of learned scientists about to discuss (but certainly not to participate in) this new and wonderful discovery of eternal youth. Also, it might conceivably have been a committee on divorce law reform, or a company meeting, or a teetotal prohibition campaign--but, whatever it was, I could not bring myself to view these people as the world's first contingent of volunteers for the army of rejuvenation. It was the most august body of ancient and unromantic-looking people I have ever seen, and, as I stood scanning their faces and revolting at their working mouths and fluttering whiskers, a sense of utter failure and hopelessness seized me. Was this our material? Was this the clay from which we had to fashion the grace and beauty of Youth? Was this the promise of the future? God forbid . . . ! In the midst of these gloomy speculations, Gran'pa stepped briskly on to the platform and raised an authoritative hand. Immediately, there was a great clearing of throats, a cackle of coughings, and a rumble of shuffling feet. Then silence. After a quick bow, Gran'pa placed his lips to the megaphone, which he had so thoughtfully provided for the benefit of those who were suffering from the commonest defect of old age. His voice was loud enough to reach not only the deaf, but to rouse even the dead. It was stupendous, overpowering--appalling. In a terse and convincing manner, he proceeded to give full details of his own marvellous case and to explain that, while he wished to benefit others, he insisted on recruiting only men of enthusiasm, imagination, courage, and _go_. Doubters and laggards were useless; but he could promise those who did come to Africa that they should have the best of everything--the best food, the best care and attention and the best and most powerful glands--those of the male gorilla. Before embarking, however, all new members of the club would have to take an oath of secrecy not to divulge its objects until they had actually been accomplished. Ostensibly, they would be emigrating because they were "fed up with England, and disgusted with the high rate of taxation, and alarmed at the spread of Socialism."