(Fragment for the Historian of the Future.)
[After the Cabinet several of the Ministers present took luncheon with the Chancellor of the Exchequer.—Daily Paper.]
There had been an exciting meeting of the Members of the Ministry. The gathering had taken place at noon, and after several angry altercations it had been adjourned. But the objector-in-chief had admirably kept his temper. He came of a gallant and illustrious race, and blood is thicker than water.
"I must not forget the teachings of my Uncle Dick," he had murmured, as it was suggested that two of his favourite projects should be slaughtered, like the infant Princes in the Tower.
Then, when there was an inclination on the part of his colleagues to quarrel amongst themselves, he cleverly fanned the fire, and increased the incipient strife.
"It was the mode adopted by my maiden Aunt, Queen Elizabeth, and it succeeded in her time. Why should the passing of three or four centuries make any difference? After all, human nature is—in fact—human nature!"
And so the dull minutes passed away. The time came for luncheon. Then he smiled a smile full of mystic hospitality.
"It will put the bloodhounds of the Press off the scent if I ask them to luncheon with me. It is sure to be reported in the papers, and who will imagine that I would willingly entertain a possible opponent to the coming Budget? Moreover, revenge is sweet; not that I would take it! not that I would take it!"
And then he entreated several of his colleagues to "crush a cup with him," using a phraseology that had found favour in the mouths of the Crusaders.
"And Rosey, will not you come?" The question was asked with much cordiality. The Premier did not reply. He merely smiled, and the smile seemed to be a sufficient answer.