"My dear fellow," I said, "I think that in spite of your Parthian shaft,
your definition of a cynic is as complimentary to the school at large as
to me in particular. Meanwhile, however," I added, turning to Mr.
Ghyrkins, "I am inclined to believe with Lord Steepleton that the
subject uppermost in the thoughts of most of us is the crusade against
the tigers. What do you say? Shall we not all go as we are, a neat party
of six?"
"Well, well, Mr. Griggs, we shall see, you know. Now, if we are going at
all, when do you mean to start?"
"The sooner the better of course," broke in Kildare, and he launched
into a host of reasons for going immediately, including the wildest
statistics about the habits of tigers in winter. This was quite natural,
however, as he was a thorough Irishman and had never seen a tiger in his
life. Mr. Currie Ghyrkins vainly attempted to stem the torrent of his
eloquence, but at last pinned him on some erratic statement about tigers
moulting later in the year and their skins not being worth taking.
Kildare would have asserted with equal equanimity that all tigers shed
their teeth and their tails in December; he was evidently trying to
rouse Mr. Ghyrkins into a discussion on the subject of tiger shooting in
general, a purpose very easily accomplished.
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