His portrait occasionally appeared in the picture papers as "one of the young lions of Fleet Street," but his enemies preferred to describe him as one of Lord Butterworth's jackals--Lord Butterworth being the millionaire proprietor of an influential group of newspapers which, during the war, had stood for "the last drop of blood and the last shilling" rallying cry.

As one of the foremost of this group of patriots, Mr.Brimley had let his ink flow so freely in the Allies' cause that it was whispered amongst those "in the know" that he was certain for a knighthood, or at least an Empire Order, in the next list of honours.
Mr.Brimley looked at the speaker haughtily, and made an inaudible reply.

Although he was a lion of Fleet Street, he did not relish being called upon to roar in the wilds of Sussex.
"Won't the poor German people be delighted when our troops march across the Rhine to deliver them from militarism," continued the old lady innocently.
There was a subdued titter from the younger girls at this, and a young officer sitting near the bottom of the table laughed aloud, then flushed suddenly at his breach of manners.
"Have I said something foolish ?" asked the old lady placidly.

"Please tell me if I have--I don't mind." "Not at all," said another young officer, with a beardless sunburnt face.

"Personally, I quite agree with you.