"
He began to expostulate, said he was expected in Kilburn.
"Oh, I've plenty for two," I said, "and I can say, at least, that
I am a firm believer in cooperation.
Without more urging he followed me into the woods, where we sat
down comfortably under a tree.
Now, when I take a fine thick sandwich out of my bag, I always
feel like making it a polite bow, and before I bite into a big
brown doughnut, I am tempted to say, "By your leave, madam," and
as for MINCE PIE----Beau Brummel himself could not outdo me in
respectful consideration. But Bill Hahn neither saw, nor smelled,
nor, I think, tasted Mrs. Ransome's cookery. As soon as we sat
down he began talking. From time to time he would reach out for
another sandwich or doughnut or pickle (without knowing in the
least which he was getting), and when that was gone some reflex
impulse caused him to reach out for some more. When the last
crumb of our lunch had disappeared Bill Hahn still reached out.
His hand groped absently about, and coming in contact with no
more doughnuts or pickles he withdrew it--and did not know, I
think, that the meal was finished. (Confidentially, I have
speculated on what might have happened if the supply had been
unlimited!)
But that was Bill Hahn. Once started on his talk, he never
thought of food or clothing or shelter; but his eyes glowed, his
face lighted up with a strange effulgence, and he quite lost
himself upon the tide of his own oratory.
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