EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
House of Commons, Monday evening, December 4.—Slight coolness sprung up between Major Rasch and Members in immediate neighbourhood. Stanley Leighton observed an insect of unfamiliar appearance disporting itself on the Major's back. Closer inspection revealed presence of others, one carefully pricking its way through his bristling hair. In these days, when microbes are a little too familiar in their habit, this curious phenomenon led to some uneasiness.
"Dear me," said Major Rasch, when his attention was delicately called to matter; "some of 'em must have got out. Only locusts, dear boy; needn't be frightened; put down question to Herbert Gardner as to importation of Russian hay which is swarming with locusts. Grand Young Gardner absent; engaged in cultivating the influenza microbe; Herbert Gladstone undertaken to answer question. I know these young Ministers; sure to pooh-pooh question. So, being an old soldier, prepared counter-movement; got handful of locusts; clapped 'em into box; brought 'em down, intending to hand box over to Herbert. They seem, however, to have anticipated proceedings. Prized lid off box, and swarmed all about; looking for wild honey, I suppose. Hope they won't catch Speaker's eye. Lend us a hand to net a few before they attack Hanbury."
If Session goes on much longer will get itself counted out. Members falling around us like leaves in wintry weather. Prince Arthur not yet back; Grandolph off to sunnier climes; John Morley, out too soon after approach to convalescence, gone to break the bank at Monte Carlo; not likely to be seen here again this side of Christmas. And now Bobby Spencer down; fallen on the field of battle. Came into lobby just now at usual brisk pace; made his way to Whip's room; drooped on threshhold. Happily nothing serious; only a passing faint; but eloquent of strain upon Members in these times. For Bobby, of course, the weight is exceptionally heavy. Nous autres come and go; make holiday when we can get a pair; as often as we have the heart to do so meet with light negative Bobby's touching appeal, "You dine here to-night?" But for him, always on the spot, his young head full of State cares, his manly bosom enfolding innumerable State secrets, it is different. Now the long pending blow suddenly falls, and Bobby, not without reminiscence of the elder Pitt in an earlier Parliament, fails at his post—"Young Lycidas and hath not left his peer."
Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more,
Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere,
I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude,
And with forced fingers rude
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.
Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear
Compels me to disturb your season due:
For Lycidas is down, down ere his prime.
"'Compels,'" said the Member for Sark, nothing if not critical. "Wouldn't you write 'compel'?"
"Yes, I should; but Milton didn't; and, on the whole, I prefer his style."
Business done.—Pegging away at Parish Councils Bill.
