ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
House of Commons, Monday, May 13.—"Well," said the Member for the Otley division of Yorkshire, "I suppose I've gone through as many vicissitudes as most men. First I was a Barran, now I'm a baronite. Really, I don't know but what, if they'd made me an earl, I wouldn't go and sit in the House of Lords. Not because, as good Radical, I don't despise them, but just to give them advantage of my company, and place in their way a useful example. Instead of which, here's Wolmer become Earl of Selborne, and insists upon continuing to sit with us!"
The Pirate's Convoy. Penny plain, Twopence coloured.
Incursion of the Pirate Peer effectively managed. Those old campaigners, George Curzon and St. John Brodrick, took the business in hand. The thing was to be a great surprise. Accordingly, took the Speaker into confidence, also the Squire of Malwood (The Little Minister, Macfarlane, who has just been reading Barrie, calls him), Prince Arthur, Joseph, and a score or two others. The Pirate Peer was to come down in hansom at four o'clock, to be met by Brodrick in Palace Yard; Curzon, armed to the teeth, standing at fifty paces nearer entrance to House of Commons.
Brodrick, who likes to do the thing thoroughly, suggested that the Pirate Peer should fly a black flag out of port-hole at top of cab. Curzon liked idea, but thought it would attract inconvenient attention. Finally compromised by arrangement that cabby should tie bit of black ribbon on his whip. Effect symbolic without being obtrusive.
Everything went off excellently. Not a hitch in the arrangements. Whilst questions still going on George Curzon, with frock-coat lightly but firmly buttoned over a belt teeming with pistols, sauntered in from lobby. Glanced carelessly round House. Accidentally, as it were, placed himself between unsuspecting Sergeant-at-Arms and glass door giving entrance to House. If the armed official attacked Pirate Peer it should be across his (Curzon's) body.
At preconcerted signal Brodrick rapidly entered; bustled down to Front Opposition Bench. Attention of Members thus attracted, the Pirate Peer followed, strode with firm step down House. "Just as if he were walking the plank," said Donald Currie, looking on admiringly. Before House knew what had happened, there he sat, smiling and blushing, between those pillars of Law and Order, Joe and Courtney. Never since Parliaments began had British Constitution received such a staggering blow. Sage of Queen Anne's Gate, whilst anxious to see destruction of House of Lords, is not disposed to have stray fragments incorporated with fabric of Commons. Called Speaker's attention to presence in their midst of the Pirate Peer. Asked what they were going to do with him?
An anxious moment. George Curzon tugged nervously at the arsenal scarcely concealed under his frock coat. St. John Brodrick involuntarily stretched forth his hand in direction of Mace. Suppose he were to seize it, sweep the Treasury Bench clear at a blow, whilst George Curzon, with pistol in either hand, and dagger between his teeth, let fly a volley or two? We might have had a revolution. Quieter counsels prevailed. Speaker directed Pirate Peer to withdraw below Bar whilst his case was being discussed.
Selborne obeyed the mandate, and the ground thus left clear, Joe and the Squire of Malwood had a tussle. Joseph accused the Squire of acting in a fit of temper. The Squire retorted that it was not only untrue, but that at the time of offering remark Joseph was perfectly well acquainted with its entire freedom from the trammels of truth.
"Dear me," said Pirate Peer, looking round uneasily. "I hope they don't talk like that in the House of Lords."
Business done.—Clause I. Welsh Disestablishment Bill through Committee.
Tuesday.—Pirate Peer in the offing again. Ran in, as before, under protection of guns of consorts, George Curzon and St. John Brodrick. Lay to under gallery whilst question discussed at large. House never able to keep up interest in this kind of thing over successive days. Novel and exciting enough yesterday; steam not to be got up for second day. Only for Joe, business would have come to conclusion after formal proposal by Squire Of Malwood to refer whole matter to Select Committee. Joseph's interposition led to inevitable row. Wanted, for some inexplicable reason, to drag in Carmichael. Quoted Debrett to establish his claim to dormant Earldom of Hyndford.
Evidently a Dormant Duke!
(Mr. Kn-tchb-ll-H-g-ss-n.)
Joe left alone in advocacy of this line. Squire of Malwood had rare good time. Read passage from Joe's speech of last year, when question to succession of Coleridge Barony under discussion. Had said then exactly the reverse of what he to-day averred in respect of succession to Selborne Peerage, and status of new Peer in House of Commons.
"The fatal thing about Joseph," said Sark, "is that when he makes a statement on one side of a case or the other, he does it with such point, in such felicitous phrase, with such convincing emphasis, that it sticks in the memory. When, twelve months or nine years later, circumstances lead him to other side of question, he delivers himself on it with same incomparable gifts of point and lucidity. The bringing out of his former assertion is not so conclusive as you would think, because the two—affirming a thing is white one day, protesting on the next it is black—are so evenly balanced that the case stands exactly where it did. This sharp confronting of Joseph denying with Joseph affirming would be fatal to some men. To our Joe it is not even embarrassing. House roars with delight. He sits silent, apparently unconcerned, and somebody else will suffer by-and-by."
Business done.—Committee appointed to inquire into case of the Pirate Peer.
Thursday.—The longer Major Rasch lives, the fainter grows his faith in the nobility of human nature. To-night brought down with him a few carefully selected, choice specimens of the American pea-bug. Naturally expected everybody would welcome the little stranger. Especially interesting to Minister of Agriculture. Being a man of taste, Major had installed the insects in dainty bon-bon box; swung it lightly between forefinger and thumb as he inquired what Herbert Gardner meant to do about it? "Will the right hon. gentleman," he said, "have consignments of peas coming from America marked as such, and put in bond, so that the bugs may develop there, and not in the British market garden?"
At this way of putting it, Squire Of Malwood pricked up his ears. To quick instincts of Chancellor of the Exchequer bugs in bond suggested new field of taxation. Made a note of it.
The Grand Young Gardner smiled at the claims of long descent put forward by Rasch on behalf of the tenants of his bon-bon box. "Nothing new in it," he said superciliously. "Known the creature all my official life. Your so-called American pea-bug is nothing more than the pea and bean weevil. Came over with the Conqueror. Agricultural Department even now publishing leaflet describing manners and customs of the early settler, and suggesting various ways of soothing its last moments."
"I may have been Rash."
This hard; sorer still conduct of Members immediately near the Major. Began to sheer off, putting him, so to speak, in quarantine.
"I don't care," said Tomlinson, "whether its American pea-bugs or the pea and bean weevil. What I do say is that no man has any business to bring such things with him into the social circle."
"I may have been Rash," said the Major humbly.
"You are," said Tomlinson tartly.
Business done.—Coolness sprung up between Tomlinson and Major Rasch. Budget Bill read second time.
Friday.—"Pity the sorrows of the poor postman, whose wandering steps has brought him to your door." Thus Kearley, in a long speech, from which it appeared that if there is a down-trodden fellow-creature whose state looks hopeless, it is the postman. The story of the man in Wales who trudged seventy miles a day, including the diurnal ascent of a mountain 7,000 feet high, sent thrill of horror through House. Kearley subsequently explained he meant 700 feet high. But that a detail. Seven seems to be this man's fateful number, for his pay is seven shillings a week—a shilling a day, including the mountain.
Arnold Morley, on other hand, showed that the lot of the postman is truly idyllic. Handsomely paid when on duty; booted and uninformed; is accustomed to retire in the prime of life on pension amounting to two-thirds of his salary.
"Why," said Willie Redmond, thinking regretfully of days that are no more, when Joseph Gillis carried the bag, "as things go now, it's better to be a postman than an Irish Member." Finally decided to appoint Committee to inquire into truth of these conflicting statements.
Business done.—Didn't get into Committee on Civil Service Estimates.
New Version of an Old Proverb. (For the Use of Local Optionists.)—One Vetoist may keep a toper from his favourite pub; but fifty cannot make him drink—water.
"The Immortal Williams" on the Anti-British Movement In Egypt.—"Oh, my prophetic soul, Deloncle!"—Shakspeare, adapted from the French.