"
The man, who was wizened, weathered, and old, with but few teeth, looked
up at him from above the curved hands with which he was coaxing the
flame of a match into the bowl of his pipe. His brow was wrinkled, and
moisture stood at the comers of his eyes.
"I assure you," went on Mr. Lavender, "that we have none of us the right
in these days to delay for a single minute the delivery of anything--not
even of speeches. When I am tempted to do so, I think of our sons and
brothers in the trenches, and how every shell and every word saves their
lives, and I deliver----"
The old man, who had finished lighting his pipe, took a long pull at it,
and said hoarsely:
"Go on!"
"I will," said Mr. Lavender, "for I perceive that I can effect a
revolution in your outlook, so that instead of wasting the country's
time by leaning against that wheel you will drive on zealously and help
to win the war."
The old man looked at him, and one side of his face became drawn up in
a smile, which seemed to Mr. Lavender so horrible that he said: "Why do
you look at me like that?"
"Cawn't 'elp it," said the man.
"What makes you," continued Mr. Lavender, "pause here with your job half
finished? It is not the hill which keeps you back, for you are at the
top, and your horses seem rested.
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