In the Commons the trouble on the Clyde was the pièce de résistance. At Question time Mr. Lloyd George, fresh from the Paris Conference, had to deal with a number of inquiries put by the little group of Scottish malcontents whose notion of patriotism is to embarrass the Government on each and every occasion. Mr. Hogge wanted to know when the Minister of Munitions was going to give the other side of the case—"the German side," as an interrupter pertinently put it; and Mr. Pringle intimated that a settlement could have been reached but for the unreasonableness of the Government.
This gave Dr. Addison, usually the mildest-mannered man that ever lanced a gumboil, an opportunity of administering to big accuser a much-needed lesson in deportment. The hon. Member had first forced himself, without invitation, into a private conversation in the Minister's room, and had then given a totally misleading account of what took place. He had made himself the spokesman of a body which had displayed "a treacherous disregard of the highest national interests."
Mr. Pringle was as much surprised as if he had been bitten by a rabbit, and wound up an unconvincing defence of himself with the remark that he would rather keep silence than say anything to exacerbate feeling. It is a pity that his friend Mr. Hogge did not imitate this wise if rather tardy reticence. He gave Mr. Lloyd George the lie when he was describing how the disputes had interfered with the supply of guns urgently needed by the Army, and provoked the retort that, instead of encouraging the strikers by unfounded suggestions, he would be better employed if "with what credit is left to him" he went down to the Clyde and tried to get them to work.
She. "Good gracious! The Brown-Smiths!! I thought they were so poor."
He. "Yes. But, you see, he's been supplying the Government with shells for quite a fortnight!"