Extracted from the Diary of Toby, M.P.
House of Commons, Monday, February 18.—Debate on Address finished, at last. Been on the whole dreary business. Instead of sharp roar of honest artillery from Opposition camp at opening of campaign, series of squibs popped off; some of them damp. Novel idea at commencement of new Session for Opposition chiefs to lurk in the wood armed with blunderbusses, watching efforts of lesser villains to waylay and murder Ministers, they coming on scene when these efforts been repulsed. Novel, but on whole not so successful that we are likely to see repetition.
Odd thing is that in series of divisions Government had nearest squeak on motion for the Closure. S. Woods had amendment on paper; wanted to have debate adjourned so that another day might be appropriated for his use; Squire of Malwood thought really been enough talk round Address. Moved closure. Woods and two or three other good Radicals go into Lobby against Ministers; others abstain; Opposition seeing opportunity flock into Lobby; Ministry saved by eight votes.
"Yes," said the Squire of Malwood as we walked home together, after last division, "it is not exactly encouraging. But what distresses me most is the way some of our fellows talk about Rosebery. Used to be old constitutional maxim that the King can do no wrong. Modern reading on our side is that Premier can do no right. Speeches like Dilke's to-night hurt me more than anything else." This conversation followed close on one I had earlier in day with the noble lord.
"How's the Squire looking?" he asked, anxiously. "Bearing up I trust, against the fatigues of a thankless task. What a few of our men say about me not the slightest consequence. Passes over me like fluttering of idle wind. Know all about it. Could, an' I would, describe animating motive in each case. What cuts me to the heart is their treatment of the Squire. He manages admirably. Spares no labour; makes no mistake. Yet whenever some men returned to support us are not permitted to take in own hands direction of public business, they go over to the enemy. Great blessing the Squire is endowed by nature with angelic temper. Otherwise, when this sort of thing happens, he would chuck up the whole business, and tell malcontents and deserters to manage matters for themselves."
So nice to have this state of things existing. Sufferers in common affliction, each thinks only of the other.
Business done.—Address agreed to after ten days talk.
Tuesday Night.—Every prospect of quiet evening, even talk of count out. After spending our nights and days with Address during last fortnight, small wonder if the hearts of Members, untravelled, fondly turn to home. Diversion created by appearance on scene of Howard Vincent. Got up in extraordinary fashion. Round his waist a belt, in which slung miscellaneous assortment of brushes and other articles of domestic use. Pendent were hair brushes, hat brushes, tooth brushes, boot brushes (with case in solid leather), whisk brooms, carpet sweepers, wall brushes, chimney-sweeping machine (with whalebone head and chimney cloth), deck scrubbers, one venetian blind-duster, feather brushes (eight feet long with jointed handles), floor polishers, hearth brushes (white hair and black), lamp brushes, aid one hair waver patent for producing in a few minutes, without the use of heated irons, a natural wavy appearance in the hair. (Frank Lockwood much interested in this.)
Other brushes peeped out from every pocket save those at coat-tails, which, as being more roomy, were reserved for specimens of filters, fish-kettles, bread-platters, revolving boot-cleaners, specimens of boxes in which eggs may be safely sent through the parcel-post, and a lemon-squash stand (oak and nickel mounts complete, with four tumblers, corkscrew, lemon-knife, and glass sugar basin).