ous temptations; yet,
since one man cannot have all the virtues, he was distinctly stupid. It
would have been a hopeless speech anyhow; but, to make matters worse, he
had, in the most important part of it, attempted irony. And at the
beginning of the ironical passage even the Tariffadical word-painters
had to confess that it was their own stalwarts who "suddenly paled."

As Lady Marchpane had said, it was bound to be a close thing. The
Liberatives and the Unialists, of course, were solid against the Bill,
but there was also something of a cave in the Tariffadical Party. It was
bound to be a close thing, and Rupert's speech just made the difference.
When he sat down the waverers and doubters had made up their minds.

The Bill was defeated.

. . . . .

That the Tariffadicals should resign was natural; perhaps it was equally
natural that Rupert's secretary should resign too. He said that his
reputation would be gone if Rupert made any more speeches on his own,
and that he wasn't going to risk it. Without his secretary Rupert was
lost at the General Election which followed. Fortunately he had a
grateful friend in Lady Marchpane. She exerted her influence with the
Liberatives, and got him an appointment as Governor of the Stickjaw
Islands. Here, with his beautiful and rich wife, Sir Rupert Meryton
maintains a regal state, and upon his name no breath of scandal rests.
Indeed, his only trouble so far has been with the Stickjaw language--a
difficult language, but one which, perhaps fortunately, does not lend
itself to irony.

THE MAGNATE

It was in October, 19-- that the word "Zinc" first began to be heard in
financial circles. City men, pushing their dominoes regretfully away,
and murmuring "Zinc" in apologetic tones, were back in their offices by
three o'clock, forgetting in their haste to leave the usual twopence
under the cup for the waitress. Clubmen, glancing at the tape on their
way to the smoking-room, said to their neighbours, "Zinc's moved a
point, I see," before covering themselves up with _The Times_. In the
trains, returning husbands asked each other loudly, "What's all this
about zinc?"--all save the very innocent ones, who whispered, "I say,
what _is_ zinc exactly?" The music-halls took it up. No sooner had the
word "Zinc" left the lips of an acknowledged comedian than the house was
in roars of laughter. The _furore_ at the Collodium when Octavius Octo,
in his world-f