THE POLITE SPEAKER.
(Intended for the use of courteous Members of Parliament.)
Question. I trust you quite acknowledge that strong language is absolutely unnecessary in Westminster?
Answer. Quite, especially when a compensating description can be found for every suitable term of abuse.
Q. You grasp the idea. How would you describe Nero fiddling during the burning of Rome?
A. I should say that he was a musician with a turn for pleasing variations.
Q. Very good. And how would you speak of Guy Faux on the eve of blowing up the House of Commons?
A. An experimentalist who would have been a useful lecturer upon chemistry at the Royal Institution.
Q. And could you refer to Blue Beard after the discovery of the cause of his last widowerhood without giving offence?
A. Yes; as a married man who objected on principle to the Mormon practice of being wedded to more than one wife at a time.
Q. Yes. And what would you say of Marie de Medicis, who is reported to have fired at the Huguenots from the Louvre?
A. I should say that her late Majesty took such an interest in field sports, as nowadays would have secured her election to the Gun Club.
Q. And, lastly, were you asked to describe Henry the Eighth after he had slaughtered most of his wives, plundered all the monasteries, and imprisoned or executed many of his subjects, what would you call him?
A. Without hesitation I should refer to him as "an excited politician."
"Continuous-Sounding Machines."—Lots of 'em on view in the House of Commons. But, for the genuine article, consult a "Colomb" of the Times.
"I love those cradle-songs," said Mrs. R. "The other day I heard—I forget who it was—sing a most charming alibi."