OLD JOHN, TIM, & OTHERS 165 



it I could follow ; but there was one con- 

 stantly recurring word of which I could 

 make nothing. "Efficiency," " Efficiency," 

 "Efficiency." It was sprinkled over the 

 dialogue of my much absorbed companions, 

 and from all the tables in the room the 

 earnest sibilants penetrated the cheerful 

 chatter of the mid-day meal. In the smok- 

 ing-room shortly afterwards I narrated to 



Mr. G B the strange things I had 



heard, and asked whether he could explain. 

 His answer did but darken counsel. It 

 was in music. Lifting up his voice, 



G B— — chaunted : " Some one | 



ought to I speak to | Mister | Hodgson | 

 Some one | ought to | tell him | what to 

 I do - oo ! " " Evidently there are rogues 

 about," I said to myself, moving off 

 towards a shady corner in which I 

 had espied Dagonet, in an armchair, 

 meditatively flourishing a large cigar. 

 Dagonet is an encyclopaedic Briton, and 

 very humane : I dared say he could and 

 would explain the words that had puzzled 

 me on my return to Town. 



