Another Injustice to Ireland.
Tuesday.—Some men are born to trouble as the sparks fly upwards. Of these is William O'Brien. It would seem that fate had expended its malignity when Prince Arthur deprived him of his breeches. Now Joseph has appropriated his dinner-table. The lynx eye of Bartley detected the irregularity which disclosed existence of this fresh outrage. Bartley favourably known in House as guardian of its honour and dignity. From time to time spirit moves him suddenly to rise and point fat forefinger at astonished Mr. G., whom he has discovered in some fresh design upon stability of the Empire or symmetry of the Constitution. At stated hours, formerly on Thursdays ten o'clock now generally on stroke of midnight, he is seen and heard shouting "Gag! gag!"
"Odd," says Member for Sark, "how phrases change in similar circumstances though at different epochs. When Closure first invented, put in motion by dear Old Morality, and supported by Bartley, Hanbury, Jimmy Lowther, and the rest, it used to be spoken resentfully of as 'pouncing.' Now it is 'gagging.' But it is precisely the same, inasmuch as the minority of the day, against whom it is enforced, denounce it as iniquitous, whilst the majority, who took that view when they were on other side of House, now regard it as indispensable to conduct of public business. Bartley having lived through both epochs is useful illustration of this tendency. When Old Morality pounced on Irish members his lusty shout of approval used to echo through House with only less volume than now his roar of anguish goes up to glass roof when Old Morality's original thumbscrews are fitted on him and his friends. A quaint, mad world, my Toby."
To-night Bartley not so well-informed on subject as usual. Thought it was John Dillon, who, acting the part of Amphitryon, piloted his guests within preserves of members' private dining-room. Turned out it wasn't Dillon at all, but William O'Brien, who in most tragic manner tells how, having secured in advance a table for his guests, found when the dinner-hour struck Joseph and his Brethren seated thereat, merrily profiting by his forethought. Straightway O'Brien led his guests to the table in members' room which Unionist Leaders have marked for their own. This he appropriated, and there, regardless of surprised looks from ex-ministers at adjoining table, he truculently dined.
"Well, at any rate," said Tim Healy, that Man of Peace, "I'm glad it wasn't mere English or Orangemen who were thus treated. If Joseph had appropriated Saunderson's table, the Colonel would have taken him in his arms, dropped him outside on the Terrace, and, returning to his seat, ordered a fresh plate of soup." Business done.—Bartley adds fresh dignity to Parliamentary debate.
Thursday.—Was it this day week the House was in volcanic upheaval, with Hayes Fisher—or was it Mr. Gladstone?—clutching Logan by the back of the neck, a mad mob mauling each other round the white waistcoat of Edward of Armagh? According to the almanack this is so; according to appearances an eternity and a hemisphere divide the two scenes.
In Committee on Vote on Account; average attendance from twenty to thirty. Orders bristle with amendments; papers read in support of them; occasionally a Member follows with observations on topic suggested; sometimes he doesn't; then next gentleman who has prepared paper takes the floor; the audience turns over; goes to sleep again; wakened by Chairman putting question "that Amendment be withdrawn." Isn't even vigour sufficient to induce a division.
Only person free from somnolent influence of hour is Mr. G. Has nothing to do in this galley; looks on wistfully whilst Lowther (not Jimmy) talks about Vitu and the Pamirs; Jimmy (lui même) is sarcastic on subject of Board of Trade engaging in experiments in journalism; and Dicky Temple wants to know all about reported modifications in constitution of St. Paul's School by the Charity Commissioners. Mr. G. liked to have offered few remarks on one or all these subjects. Tommy Bowles nearly succeeded in drawing him. Dropping lightly out of Siam, viâ Morocco, upon question of Collisions at Sea, Tommy brought Mundella into full focus and fairly floored him with a problem.
"Suppose," he said, "the right hon. gentleman were at sea, and the whole fleet bore down upon him on the weather bow. What would he do?"
