"The deuce it does. How do you mean?"
"I mean this. If Sir John Corbett asks for a subscription he gets it. We've got to round up the whole county and all the townspeople and villagers. It's no use shooting pamphlets at 'em from a motor-car. They like being personally interviewed. If Sir John Corbett comes and talk to them and tells them they must join, ten to one they will join.
"And there isn't any time to be lost if we want to get in first before other places take it up. It'll mean pretty sharp work, day in and day out, rounding them all up."
"Oh, Lord, Waddington, don't. I'm tired already with the bare idea of it."
"Come, we can't have you tired, Corbett. Why, it won't be worse, it won't be half as bad as a season's hunting. You're just the man for it. Fit as fit."
"Not half as fit as I look, Waddington."
"There's another thing—the meetings. If the posters say Sir John Corbett will address the meeting people'll come. If Sir John Corbett speaks they'll listen."
"My dear fellow, that settles it. I can't speak for nuts. You know I can't. I can introduce a speaker and move a vote of thanks, and that's about all I can do. It's your show, not mine. You ought to be president, Waddington. You'll enjoy it and I shan't."
"I don't know at all about enjoying it. It'll be infernally hard work."
"Precisely."