"It cann't be done in this wurrld," remarked the Commissioner, in one of those suave, plastic, Cork brogues which might be made of Cork butter from the softness and lack of friction they bring to the English language. "An' what's more the Archangel Gabriel couldn't do it in heaven, though he'd have a better chance; for the Cherubim wouldn't be wanting seats at all! We are bound to displease somebody, so let's cast lots before the Lord; it's Scriptural, annyhow." The Under Secretary looked a trifle shocked, being unacquainted with the Commissioner's methods. "But we must,"--he began. The other's keen face looked up from the lists for a second. "Of course we must--we govern India practically, by cane-bottomed chairs. Ye remember old Gunning. No!--before your time, I expect! Well! he kept two hundred miles of North-West frontier as quiet as the grave, for five years, by the simple expedient of awarding thirteen seats in his divisional _durbar_ to each of his districts, and only taking twelve chairs with him into camp. The _mâliks_, you see, never could tell which would be chosen odd man out, an' the fear of it kept 'em like sucking doves." "Indeed!" remarked the Under Secretary, fidgeting with his lists resignedly, for he was under the impression that time was being lost. "I'm afraid that sort of thing wouldn't answer nowadays." The elder man looked at him gravely; just one short glance, as he dipped his pen in the ink and went on writing, revising, referring. "Not a bit of it! They'd send down to Whiteway Laidlaw's and get Austrian bent-wood chairs by value payable parcel post! The Teuton, sir, is ruinin' British prestige by cheapenin' the seats of the mighty. There! that's done--block A's beautiful entirely. Now for block B. Who's your favourite, and why are you backing him?" Once more the junior appeared a trifle shocked. "With reference to Roshan Khân," he began. "His Excellency desired me to ask whether it might not be possible to give him a step for being, as it were, in his own division. He belongs to Eshwara, I believe." "The very reason why he cann't get an inch more than his due. But you can tell H. E. that I've settled it. I've asked Dering to put him on duty, an' when he is in uniform there's no mistaking his place. And then we'll ask him in to the reception afterwards with the _sahib logue_. Who's your next--Dya Ram! what, the little pleader?--Why the blazes should he come to _durbar?_--attorneys don't go to St. James." "Mr. Cox, the member of parliament--perhaps you may remember him--" "A little red-haired fellow, was he? who wrote a book about India on the back of his two-monthly return ticket?" "Mr. Cox is a man of great influence with his party, and he supports Dya Ram's--"