“One-and-Nine, Your Honour,” repeated the Wooden Soldier.
The Lord High Fiddle-de-dee stared at him for a moment, and then turned to M.D. and said, “Is this man a little——and he tapped his forehead inquiringly.
“Yes; softening of the grain,” replied the M.D., nodding.
“Ah, I thought so,” remarked the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee. “Never mind, bring him along; even lunatics can vote here, you know,” and linking his arm in that of the M.D. they proceeded down the street, followed by Boy and One-and-Nine.
“He is a person of great dignitude, evidently,” whispered the Wooden Soldier, who was apparently greatly impressed by the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee’s aristocratic bearing. “And although he is rather abrupteous in his manner, I think I admirationise him, don’t you?”
“Yes. He seems to be a very nice gentleman,” agreed Boy. “I wonder what we shall see and hear at the House of Words? Oh! I suppose this is it,” he continued, as they turned a corner, and an imposing-looking building surrounded by an excited crowd of people came in sight.
The Lord High Fiddle-de-dee seemed to be a very well-known personage, and the crowd respectfully divided and allowed them to pass through to the entrance of the building, where an attendant opened the door and showed them along a corrider to another door marked Committee Room, which the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee opened and they all passed in.
A number of grandly dressed individuals were walking about, or chatting in little groups as they entered.
“Oh! here comes the Lord High Fiddle-de-dee,” cried some one directly they were inside the door. “Any news?” he inquired anxiously.
The Lord High Fiddle-de-dee shook his head sadly.