Four o'clock now. House met at noon, and ever since they've been swearing away. Prince Arthur and Squire of Malwood led off, in company with Hicks-Beach, Goschen and Henry Fowler. He no longer the Great Mogul. Has folded up his turban, put away his kaftan, hung up his yataghan, and once more resumed the dress of commonplace Englishman. House loses something of its picturesqueness. But, Fowler says, change of estate has some compensations. At least now he has not to receive the Shahzada in his family circle, handing him round tea and cakes, and attempting to converse with him in the Afghan tongue, imperfectly acquired by study of Ollendorf. Sense of renewed freedom made Ex-Secretary for India throw added fervour into his bout of swearing.
The Elect of Whitehaven!
A-g-st-s H-ld-r, Esq., M.P. "Well really, now they come to mention it, the likeness between myself and Sir William Harcourt is very remarkable indeed!"
A little excitement at first in crowded House. No reason why Members should insist on being sworn-in right away. Might look in later in afternoon, when pressure was over; or call to-morrow; or stroll in all by themselves on Thursday or Friday. Human instinct irrepressible even in Members of Parliament. Must be in the first flight, whatever is going on. So swarmed round table, made dashes for stray copies of the New Testament, snatched at slices of cardboard containing form of oath, as the anonymous drowning man clutched at the fortuitous straw. Milman, standing at table, administering oath, had a hot time of it for an hour. Thereafter excitement began to tone down, and just now flickered out.
Business done.—Swearing in Members.
Thursday.—"Accidental relations in directorial capacity with a great railway corporation have," said David Plunket, "brought to my knowledge the fact that when signals on the line show a green light, caution is necessary. This afternoon, when I observed Tanner come in with flaming green necktie I feared the worst."
The worst didn't befall till midnight approached. But things in immediate neighbourhood of Tanner been seething for some time. His topographical position a little trying. Faced by triumphant majority of anti-Home-Rulers, distinctly seeing on Treasury Bench two Balfours where formerly only one had sat, he was irritated by having on his flank the Redmond frères, Harrington, Clancy and other compatriots almost worse than Saxons, not to mention the pain to a man of peace of consciousness that between his friends and colleagues Tim Healy and John Dillon there was something lacking in the way of perfect loving-kindness. Then there was Boanerges Russell on the Treasury Bench. Bad enough to have had him sitting on corner of top bench immediately opposite. To see him curling up his legs on Treasury Bench, one of Her Majesty's Ministers, drawing a salary quarterly with regulation and despatch, was more than a humble but patriotic medical practitioner could stand. "T. W. Russell!" cried Tanner, with fine irony, and bold disregard of Parliamentary usage, which forbids mention of Members by name. The observation was by way of postscript to inquiry as to whether the Government really intend to try and prevent the murder of any more missionaries in China, and bring in an Irish Land Bill?
A Piece of Crown-Derby Ware!