"For the last two years—and—and—" Here Mr Moffat looked round to his friends for some little support, and the Honourable George, who stood close behind him, suggested that he had gone through it like a brick.
"And—and I went through it like a brick," said Mr Moffat, with the gravest possible face, taking up in his utter confusion the words that were put into his mouth.
"Hurray!—so you did—you're the real brick. Well done, Snip; go it again with the wax and thread!"
"I am a thorough-paced reformer," continued Mr Moffat, somewhat reassured by the effect of the opportune words which his friend had whispered into his ear. "A thorough-paced reformer—a thorough-paced reformer—"
"Go on, Snip. We all know what that means."
"A thorough-paced reformer—"
"Never mind your paces, man; but get on. Tell us something new. We're all reformers, we are."
Poor Mr Moffat was a little thrown back. It wasn't so easy to tell these gentlemen anything new, harnessed as he was at this moment; so he looked back at his honourable supporter for some further hint. "Say something about their daughters," whispered George, whose own flights of oratory were always on that subject. Had he counselled Mr Moffat to say a word or two about the tides, his advice would not have been less to the purpose.
"Gentlemen," he began again—"you all know that I am a thorough-paced reformer—"
"Oh, drat your reform. He's a dumb dog. Go back to your goose, Snippy; you never were made for this work. Go to Courcy Castle and reform that."