"
The old lady looked at him shrewdly, and, saying something in a low
voice to her companions, passed on, to halt again a little way off.
In the meantime the rumour that there was a horse down in the Clemenceau
Road had spread rapidly, and more boys, several little girls, and
three soldiers in blue, with red ties, had joined the group round Mr.
Lavender, to whom there seemed something more than providential in this
rapid assemblage. Looking round him for a platform from which to address
them, he saw nothing but the low wall of the little villa garden outside
which he was standing. Mounting on this, therefore, and firmly grasping
the branch of a young acacia tree to steady himself, he stood upright,
while Blink, on her hind legs, scratched at the wall, whining and
sniffing his feet.
Encouraged by the low murmur of astonishment, which swelled idly into a
shrill cheer, Mr. Lavender removed his hat, and spoke as follows:
"Fellow Britons, at this crisis in the history of our country I make no
apology for addressing myself to the gathering I see around me. Here, in
the cradle of patriotism and the very heart of Movements, I may safely
assume that you are aware of the importance of Man-power.
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