before very long, it would give me great pleasure to address your constituents at Canterbury. In the meantime I pray a little patience.
Yours very truly,
"The sooner the Tories learn that the combination Salisbury, Goschen, and Smith is useless for election purposes, the sooner their defeats will come to an end."
One evening H. H. was dining with Lord Randolph Churchill when the latter was in a mood half-pessimistic, half-playful. Their wants were attended to by an old waiter called Brown, a well-known character in the Member's Dining-Room.
"Ah, well," said Lord Randolph, "it's a great comfort to feel that when I die I can at least be sure that Brown will put a wreath on my grave."
"With the greatest of pleasure, my lord," replied the faithful Brown, stepping forward with a low bow.
It was Lord Randolph Churchill who performed the feat—and thereby won a wager—of running across Westminster Bridge while Big Ben was striking twelve. H. H. was among those who knew Lord Randolph at the zenith of his power and political fame, and none of Lord Randolph's friends grieved more genuinely when the tide turned.
There was one memorable evening when he was speaking in the House. His voice grew husky and the Chancellor of the Exchequer, turned to a new and totally obscure member with the request:
"Would it compromise you to get me a glass of water?" The satirical note belying the apparent humility of the request could hardly pass unnoticed.
