"The hon. member," said Grey, not even smiling, "must place his own interpretation on the clause."
Evidently nothing to be done with a person of this temperament. Silomio, with a wild shriek, learned in Swaziland, dashed in with fresh questions; was neatly tripped up by Speaker; lay sprawling on ground with dishevelled hair. Before he could get up, Snape was asking Home Secretary if the police might not be supplied with lighter clothing in summer months.
Don Currie, Lord High Admiral.
Business done.—Crofters Bill read second time.
Wednesday. Off Tilbury.—Yes, I'm off Tilbury, and shall be off to the Baltic at four bells, whatever time that may be. Mr. G. is responsible for it. Tired of doing nothing; pondering perilously over growing temptation to run up to town, plunge into Parliamentary work; address meeting at Blackheath on Armenian question. In nick of time comes letter from Don Currie, proposing a trip to Kiel for opening of Baltic Canal.
"The very thing!" said Mr. G., vaulting over the library table at Hawarden, where he was sitting when letter arrived. "But Toby, M.P., must come with us."
Objections urged in vain. What would Constituents in Berks say, me running away from work? Who was to write the only authentic matter-of-fact record of Parliamentary doings for future historians? Mr. G., with all the impetuosity of youth, would listen to nothing. So here I am, onboard the R.M.S. Tantallon Castle. Here, also, is quite a quorum of members. Curious to see how they all trooped in just now when luncheon-bell rang. Said they thought it was a division; being in saloon, might as well stay.
That's all very well. By-and-by we'll be on the North Sea, where the stormy winds do blow, do blow. Shall see then whether we can keep a House through the dinner hour.
Business done.—Anchor weighed. Mr. G. taking the helm till we're out in the open, when anyone can steer. Looks more than usually knowing in a sou'wester. Wind N.S.E. Barometer falling.