EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
House of Commons, Monday, July 1.—Presto! Quick transformation scene effected to-day. Conservatives to the right; Liberals to the left. Stupendous, far-reaching change; one of those rarely happy events that please everyone. Hearing what people say, it is difficult to decide which the more pleased, Liberals at being turned out, or Conservatives at springing in. On Ministerial side happiness marred in individual cases by being left out of the Ministry.
"I'm getting up in years now, Toby," said The Markiss, "and I've had pretty long experience in making up Ministries. But I assure you I've been staggered during last week, including in special degree the last hour. The more offices assigned, the narrower becomes the basis of operation, and the more desperate the rush of the attacking party. You'd be surprised if you saw the list of men who have asked me for something. As a rule they don't put it in that general way. They know precisely what they want, and are not bashful in giving it a name, though they usually end up by saying that if this particular post is disposed of, anything else will do. In fact, like the cabman and the coy fare, they leave it to me. I am, as you know, of placid temperament, inclined to take genial views of my fellow-man. But I declare, if the process of forming a Ministry under my direction were extended beyond a fortnight, I should become a confirmed cynic."
Business done.—Parties change sides.
Tuesday.—"Quel jour pour le bon Joé!" said my Friend, dropping with easy grace into the French of Alderney-atte-Sark.
House full, considering the nearness of Dissolution. Members anxious above all things to meet their constituents. Grudge every hour that holds them from their embrace. Still, it is well upon occasion to practise self-denial. Ten days or even a fortnight with constituents during progress of contest inevitable. Just as well not to anticipate. So House crowded to see Prince Arthur return. Slight flush on his cheek as with swinging stride he comes to take up sceptre Peel once held, that Dizzy deftly wielded, that Gladstone of late laid down. After him, second only to him, Joseph—Joseph in his very best summer suit, appropriate to occasion when sun shines most brightly. Then Jokim, who has descended to frivolity of white waistcoat, which casts ghastly pallor over festive scene. Last of all, type in these days of stern, unbending Toryism, Michael Hicks-Beach.
LEFT OUT! (A Study of several Distinguished Persons, who are unable to appreciate the charms of "Coalition"!)
Virtue Rewarded! The new Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. H-nb-ry.