“To the Editor of The North Street Gazette
Mr. Gladstone’s Diction
“Sir,—Mr. Tollemache’s letter (in which he shows that Mr. Gladstone invented the phrase ‘bag and baggage’) has suggested to me the following reminiscences. I was the humble means of bringing together Mr. Gladstone and the late Mr. Cheadle ffrench (at a breakfast-party which I gave at Frascati’s in 1876). I remember that Mr. Gladstone turned to me towards the close of the meal, and remarked in his always impressive manner, ‘We shall hear more of that young man.’ The prediction was never fulfilled (though Mr. ffrench was about to become a J.P. when he died so suddenly two years ago), but the anecdote is worthy of record as illustrating the origin of another phrase which has since passed into popular parlance. On a different occasion I recollect Mr. Gladstone (who was a good French scholar) employing the (now familiar) expression ‘Dieu et Mon Droit.’ I also had the honour to be present when Mazzini altered the famous epigram (afterwards remembered and quoted against him) ‘non vero ma ben trovato.’ I remember too the pleasure which was caused by another gentleman present (who shall be nameless) neatly capping it with the expression ‘Trocadero.’ But those were indeed ‘noctes cenœque deum!’ I recollect telling this story to Jowett. He replied by asking me in his curious high voice whether I had read his translation of Thucydides. I confessed somewhat shamefacedly that I had not, and I remember that he made no reply at all (either then or afterwards), but remained perfectly silent for three days (from Saturday to Monday). It was characteristic of the man.—Yours, etc.,
“Lionel Bellmash.
“(All this is very interesting, and proves what we have always asserted, that wit as well as honesty and logic is on the side of the Free Trader.—Editor, The North Street Gazette.)
“COINCIDENCES
“Sir,—The following may not be without interest to those of your readers who care for natural history. Yesterday as I was walking home from the city, I noticed a large flock of flamingoes (Phœnicopterus ingens) hovering over Shaftesbury Avenue. This was at 6.17 p.m. On reaching home I went up to dress to my own room, which communicates with my wife’s by a stained oak door. Judge of my surprise to find it tenanted by a giraffe (Tragelaphus Asiaticus). Surely the coincidence is a remarkable one.
“The only analogy which occurs to me at this moment (and that an imperfect one) is a story which my father used to tell, of how he was one day driving down Threadneedle Street and observed a middle-aged man of foreign appearance standing under a lamp-post and apparently engaged in threading a needle! On inquiry he discovered that the man’s name was Street!—Yours, etc.,
Foxhunter.