Mr. Hobhouse (P.M.G.).—I know very little of holidays, having to keep my nose to St. Martin's-le-Grind-stone day and night, but I have thought that, if I did take a week or so off, I should choose to spend it on the Post Office yacht, roughing it.
Sir Edward Carson.—Such time as I can spare from Ulster and my daily journey to and from London I should like to spend in explaining to Redmond the duties of a War-lord.
Mr. Frank Tinney (the famous American tragedian).—Ordinary holidays is just so much junk. Me and Ernest don't hold with them. Our idea of a holiday is to go down town and hear jokes. The more jokes we hear the bigger stock we have not to tell.
Mr. Winston Churchill.—I have often wondered if a busy administrator might not get a very restful time by steadily refusing to fly.
Mr. Asquith.—This talk about the constant need for holidays seems to me to be, if I may say so, one of the great illusions of the day. The wise man surely is he who, seated in his chair of office, welcomes every new complication and perplexity that the moments bring, and in labour finds the true repose.
Mr. Masterman.—I am spending my own holiday just now very agreeably in composing conundrums. This is my latest: "Why do I differ from my trousers?" The answer is, "Because they don't want reseating."
Lord Wimborne.—There is no place for a holiday like Meadowbrook.
A set of 12 Elizabethan "Apostle" spoons were recently offered for sale at Messrs. Christie's. Only one actual Apostle (Saint Peter) was available, but excellent substitutes were provided in the persons of Alexander the Great, Charlemagne, Julius Cæsar, King Arthur, Guy of Warwick, Queen Elizabeth, Judas Maccabeus and others.