BOBBY standing at the Bar with an apple held on palm of extended right
hand; MARJORIBANKS, using Martini-Henry Rifle, was to clear the apple
off, leaving BOBBY's hair unsinged, and not a wrinkle added to his
collar. ANSTRUTHER was next to stand in the same place, braving the
fire of the Magazine Rifle. But he didn't have an apple, as it was
arranged that the new arm should jam.
[Illustration: Standing Fire.]
"Suppose it doesn't?" ANSTRUTHER inquired, when MARJORIBANKS first
unfolded his scheme.
"Oh, that'll be all right," said MARJORIBANKS, cheerily.
Long practice on the Terrace made the arrangements perfect, when
they were suddenly upset by interference from unexpected quarter. The
SPEAKER, wondering what all this rifle-popping was, came to hear of
the project; at once said it wouldn't do; no arms of any kind admitted
in House of Commons, except the sword worn by SERGEANT-AT-ARMS,
and once a year the lethal weapons carried by the Naval or Military
gentlemen who move and second Address. BOBBY SPENCER rather glad,
I fancy; ANSTRUTHER not inconsolable.
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