have
no intention of giving a _precis_ of my speech here. It was exactly the
same as all the speeches ever delivered on such occasions. Thucydides
could have written it down word for word without ever having heard me
deliver it. It was not in the least a good speech, but it was the sort
of speech they expected, and, better still, it was the sort of speech
they wanted. Everybody was too excited to be critical, and I sat down,
perspiring and thankful, amid enthusiasm.

Then came the most trying ordeal of all--questions.

I am no hand at repartee; but practice had sharpened my faculties
in this direction, and I had, moreover, become fairly conversant
with the type of query to which the seeker after knowledge on these
occasions usually confines himself. The great secret is to bear in
mind the fact that what people want in one's reply is not accurate
information--unless, of course, you are standing for a Scottish
constituency, and then Heaven help you!--but something smart. If you can
answer the question, do so; but in any case answer it in such a way as
to make the questioner feel small. Then you will have your audience with
you.

To prevent unseemly shouting (and, _entre nous_, to give the Candidate a
little more time to polish up his impromptus), the questions were handed
up on slips of paper and read aloud, and answered _seriatim_. They were
sorted and arranged for me by Robin, and I not infrequently found, among
the various slips, a question usually coming directly after a regular
poser, in Robin's handwriting, with a brilliant and telling reply
thoughtfully appended.

This evening as usual Robin collected the slips from the stewards, and
ultimately laid them on the table before me. I rose, and started on the
heap. The first was a typewritten document which had been handed up by a
thoughtful-looking gentleman in the front row. It contained a single
line--

_Are you a Liberal or a Conservative?_

This was a trifle hard, I thought, coming directly after my speech; but
fortunately the audience considered it merely funny, and roared when I
remarked pathetically, "This gentleman is evidently deaf."

Then came the question--

_Are you in favour of Woman's Suffrage?_

This was no novelty, and was fortunately regarded by the gallant
electors present as a form of comic relief. I adopted my usual plan
under the circumstances, and said--

"I am in favour, sir, of giving a woman whatever she wants. It is always
well