(Rough Sketch by Our Artist without elbow-room.)
Saturday Morning.—Another afternoon in Committee on Home-Rule Bill. Not so lively as yesterday, but equal amount of business not done, which, after all is the thing. House fairly full; gunpowder lying about in all directions, as shown by occasional flash; and one regular explosion. Went off to Library; sat in quiet corner with Prince Arthur's last book in hand. Fancy I must have fallen asleep; found tall figure sitting next to me; drowsily recognised Raikes. Couldn't be Raikes, you know; long ago gone to another place. Yet figure unmistakeable, and voice well remembered. Seem to have been asking him question.
"What do I think about new Chairman?" he was saying. "Well, of course, that is a delicate question to put to me; was Chairman myself for many sessions; know every thorn in the cushion of the seat. It is, I should say, the most difficult post in House; far more so than Speaker's. Speaker is robed about with authority that does not pertain to Chairman. Observations which, addressed to Speaker, would be flat blasphemy, are, when flung at Chairman of Ways and Means, merely choleric words. Apart from that, position is, through long stretches of sitting, more arduous. When full-dress debate going on, Speaker of judgment and experience can go easy; may even, upon occasion, strategically doze. One did in times not so long ago, and was caught flagrante asleepoh. Mackworth Praed was Member of the House then; made little speech in verse on incident. You remember it?
Sleep, Mr. Speaker; it's surely fair,
If you don't in your bed, that you should in your Chair;
Longer and longer still they grow,
Tory and Radical, Aye and No
Talking by night, and talking by day.