March 25.—A reference to the Welsh Church Bill by a member of the Opposition elicited an epoch-making remark from Mr. Haydn Tooth, M.P. He said that the English Church blocked every measure of social reform so effectually that unless it was immediately disestablished and every archbishop and bishop deported to the Antarctic regions civil war would break out in a week. All records were broken by the Liberal Party, who rose as one man and cheered Mr. Tooth's declaration for ten minutes, many Members standing on their heads and waving their legs with epileptic fervour.
March 26.—Immediately after Question time the Prime Minister asked to be allowed to make a brief statement. Amid profound silence he stated that he had decided, with the cordial approval of his colleagues, to create a new Ministry of Public Worship, to be held by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and that he would himself assume the archbishopric on the following day. The frenzied delight of the entire Liberal Party on hearing this momentous announcement beggars description. The cheering lasted fifteen minutes, and when the vocal chords of the Members were exhausted by the strain they rolled about on the floor of the House for nearly half-an-hour.
March 27.—A tremendous impression was created by Mr. James Board, the Labour Member, during the discussion of the Plumage Bill. After observing that fine feathers might make fine birds he went on to say that lawn sleeves were no palliation of the assumption of dictatorial and autocratic powers. The entire Liberal Party cheered the statement for twenty minutes, and then continued the demonstration with mouth-organs and megaphones for close upon an hour and a-half.
March 30.—The Premier, bidding farewell to the House of Commons, announced that he had with infinite regret accepted his own resignation of the Archbishopric of Canterbury, and would in future be known as Super-Archimandrite of the Isle of Man. The entire Liberal Party were still cheering the announcement when we went to press.
"Wanted, for country house, a good odd man, more outside than inside."
Advt. in "Guardian".
The oddness of one's outside is, of course, more apparent.