Confused Captain, looking up from his MS.
"'Padding,'" I reply--"Only add a 'ton' to it, and that will give it just the weight I require. Don't you see?" I ask him, impetuously. But he merely shakes his head, and lugs at his moustache. I explain the idea, as if it were a charade. I say, "The whole notion is 'padding--ton.' See?"
The Ruminating Reader thinks it won't do. "Yes it will," I urge--"it will lighten it up. Who wants statistics without anecdote? Now for an anecdote; and I knock one off, _sur le champ_, about the engine-driver, the stoker, and several other persons, all on the look-out for promotion, informing me of their being Paddington men of considerable political influence at home. The Cautious Captain accepts the anecdote, interpolates it, and after I have called for and imbibed another tumbler of 'my own partik,' and lighted another cigar, the Conscientious Captain resumes his entertainment."
He reads on. Another drink, just to rivet my attention. Will he take som