"Well, at any rate," said Tim Healy, that Man of Peace, "I'm glad it wasn't mere English or Orangemen who were thus treated. If Joseph had appropriated Saunderson's table, the Colonel would have taken him in his arms, dropped him outside on the Terrace, and, returning to his seat, ordered a fresh plate of soup." Business done.—Bartley adds fresh dignity to Parliamentary debate.
Thursday.—Was it this day week the House was in volcanic upheaval, with Hayes Fisher—or was it Mr. Gladstone?—clutching Logan by the back of the neck, a mad mob mauling each other round the white waistcoat of Edward of Armagh? According to the almanack this is so; according to appearances an eternity and a hemisphere divide the two scenes.
In Committee on Vote on Account; average attendance from twenty to thirty. Orders bristle with amendments; papers read in support of them; occasionally a Member follows with observations on topic suggested; sometimes he doesn't; then next gentleman who has prepared paper takes the floor; the audience turns over; goes to sleep again; wakened by Chairman putting question "that Amendment be withdrawn." Isn't even vigour sufficient to induce a division.
Only person free from somnolent influence of hour is Mr. G. Has nothing to do in this galley; looks on wistfully whilst Lowther (not Jimmy) talks about Vitu and the Pamirs; Jimmy (lui même) is sarcastic on subject of Board of Trade engaging in experiments in journalism; and Dicky Temple wants to know all about reported modifications in constitution of St. Paul's School by the Charity Commissioners. Mr. G. liked to have offered few remarks on one or all these subjects. Tommy Bowles nearly succeeded in drawing him. Dropping lightly out of Siam, viâ Morocco, upon question of Collisions at Sea, Tommy brought Mundella into full focus and fairly floored him with a problem.
"Suppose," he said, "the right hon. gentleman were at sea, and the whole fleet bore down upon him on the weather bow. What would he do?"
Reading the G. O. M. to sleep.
Mundella nonplussed. Mr. G. knew all about it; would have answered right off and probably silenced even Tommy with proposition of counter manœuvre. But Marjoribanks kept relentless eye on him. Vote on Account must be got through Committee to-night. The less speaking the better; so with profound sigh Mr. G. resisted the temptation and composed himself to listen to Leng's paper on the prohibition of importation of live cattle from Canada. Here was opportunity of learning something which Mr. G. gratefully welcomed. Gradually, as the new knight went on reading extract after extract in level voice, remorselessly deliberate, Mr. G.'s eyes closed, his head drooped, and in full view of the crowded Strangers' Gallery he fell into peaceful, childlike slumber.
Business done.—Vote on Account passed Committee.
Friday.—Morning sitting devoted to miscellaneous talk around Ireland. Evening, a long Storey about iniquities of House of Lords. The evening and the morning a dull day. Had time to look over Mr. G.'s letter about retention of Irish Members. "What do you think of it?" I asked the Member for Sark. "Haven't read it," he said. "When I saw it was a column long, I knew Mr. G. didn't want to say anything that would be understood. When he does, a few lines suffice; when he doesn't, nothing less than a column of print will serve."