The best-natured man in the world, Mr. Lott would sit smiling
and content so long as he had only to listen; asked his opinion (on
anything but timber), he betrayed by a knitting of the brows, a rolling of
the eyes, an inflation of the cheeks, and other signs of discomposure, the
serious effort it cost him to shape a thought and to utter it. At times Mr.
Daffy got on to the subject of social and political reform, and, after
copious exposition, would ask what Mr. Lott thought. He knew the
timber-merchant too well to expect an immediate reply. There came a long
pause, during which Mr. Lott snorted a little, shuffled in his chair, and
stared at vacancy, until at length, with a sudden smile of relief he
exclaimed, 'Do you know _my_ idea!' And the idea, often rather explosively
stated, was generally marked by common-sense of the bull-headed, British
kind.
'Bad this morning,' remarked Mr. Lott, abruptly but sympathetically, as
soon as the writhing tailor could hear him.
'Rather bad--ugh, ugh!--had to run--ugh!--doesn't suit me, Mr. Lott,'
gasped the other, as he took the silk hat which his friend had picked up
and stroked for him.
'Hot weather trying.'
'I vary so,' panted Mr.
Pages:
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335