"The hon. Member must withdraw."
The Doctor "exits" with a flourish, glares at the Conservative benches below the gangway, and hisses at them:
"Better order a ton of plaster, for you'll want it after I meet ye outside."
Mr. Labouchere and two or three Irish Members rise at once.
My neighbour sneers.
"Oh, sit down, ye rubbishy lot! Labby,—better keep yer jokes for yer paper. Bless me if Conybeare ain't left standing! Now for an hour of boredom."
"He is a bore," I remark.
"Yes, I've stood Kenealy and Wharton, but this bore I can't. I'll chuck it up. Kenealy did his best for the Claimant, and was amusing at times; and Wharton,—well, he had good snuff, and his hat was a treat; but this Conybeare is a bore and nothing else."
So he went on.
The "descendant of kings," Sir William Harcourt, rose to pulverise Torydom and put an end to the Government and everything in general, when the Speaker rose and said that the question before the House was whether black sticking-plaster could be used in public hospitals.