Lord Bill’s face when anything funny happened, and he felt it behove him in his official capacity to be serious, was a study; and while he often witnessed strange happenings they never ceased to amuse him; his sense of humour never deserted him.
I remember one occasion when he must have found self-control difficult.
The viceregal party were on tour and staying in a big station where they announced they would hold one of these drawing-room sort of receptions.
Scene I. (No action.)
Large bungalow of chief political officer in the neighbourhood. Two large rooms and one small one opening into one another, the curtains which usually hung between the rooms to make them more private and to prevent people hearing what you are saying! being removed for the afternoon, leaving a free passage from the verandah on one side of the house through the three rooms and out into another verandah at the other side of the bungalow.
All the furniture had been removed from the middle rooms to make it more impressive.
A roughly constructed and somewhat uncertain platform raised a little from the ground, covered with imposing red felt and bath rugs. Two deck-chairs or something of that sort representing the thrones.
Scene II. (Action.)
Enter Mr. and Mrs. Viceroy, who have learnt to pick their way, and walk with circumspection over hastily laid red baize and felt. Mr. and Mrs. Viceroy making polite conversation to their host and hostess admiring all the excellent arrangements made for their comfort. Mrs. Viceroy sits on her throne, Mr. Viceroy stands beside her, and the staff arrange themselves becomingly, one A.D.C. having been told off to receive and unpack the ladies on arrival at No. 1 verandah, another on verandah No. 2 to repack them, and say how charming they are all looking, that it is a day he will remember all his life, and so on. A third A.D.C. announces the names, which are handed to him on cards, and the Military Secretary introduces them.