He determines to try the Automatic Photographing Machine, the Station being empty. To his dismay a Crowd has gathered, and watches the Operation.
AN IDEAL INTERVIEWER.
Scene—Den of latest Lion.
Latest Lion (perusing card with no visible signs of gratification.) Confound it! don't remember telling the Editor of Park Lane I'd let myself be interviewed. Suppose I must have, though. (Aloud to Servant, who is waiting.) You can show the Gentleman up.
Servant (returning). Mr. Walsingham Jermyn!
[A youthful Gentleman is shown in; he wears a pink-striped shirt-front, an enormous button-hole, and a woolly frock-coat, and is altogether most expensively and fashionably attired, which, however, does not prevent him from appearing somewhat out of countenance after taking a seat.
The L. L. (encouragingly). I presume, Mr. Jermyn, you're here to ask me some questions about the future of the British East African Company, and the duty of the Government in the matter?
Mr. Jermyn (gratefully). Er—yes, that's what I've come about, don't you know—that sort of thing. Fact is (with a burst of confidence), this isn't exactly my line—I've been rather let in for this. You see, I've not been by way of doin' this long—but what's a fellow to do when he's stony-broke? Got to do somethin', don't you know. So I thought I'd go in for journalism—I don't mean the drudgery of it, leader-writin' and that—but the light part of it, Society, you know. But the other day, man who does the interviews for Park Lane (that's the paper I'm on) jacked up all of a sudden, and my Editor said I'd better take on his work for a bit, and see what I made of it. I wasn't particular. You see, I've always been rather a dead hand at drawin' fellows out, leadin' them on, you know, and all that, so I knew it would come easy enough to me, for all you've got to do is to sit tight and let the other chap—I mean to say, the man you're interviewin'—do all the talking, while you—I mean to say, myself—keep, keeps—hullo, I'm getting my grammar a bit mixed; however, it don't signify—I keep quiet and use my eyes and ears like blazes. Talking of grammar, I thought when I first started that I should get in a regular hat over the grammar, and the spellin', and that—you write, don't you, when you're not travellin'? So you know what a grind it is to spell right. But I soon found they kept a Johnny at the office with nothing to do but put all your mistakes right for you, so, soon as I knew that, I went ahead gaily.
The L. L. Exactly, and now, perhaps, you will let me know what particular information you require?