Colonel Howard Vincent bristles with indignation, and has a brush with the enemy.
"Been to a bazaar?" I asked; "or are you going to give up military pursuits, and set up a stall somewhere on your own account?"
"No, Toby," said the Colonel, severely—"would you just hitch round the handle of that frying-pan? Thank you; it might get in Bartley's way whilst I am addressing the House—these few things you see only partially concealed about my person are the result of the labours of convicts and felons working in foreign prisons. A Government lost to all sense of public duty permits their free importation, to the detriment of honest British workman. You'd better stop and hear me broil Bryce."
Colonel walked off with curious clatter, much more effective than the spurs he wears on field days with the Queen's Westminster Volunteers. Most interesting lecture, occasionally marred by Colonel, intending at particular point to produce a blacking-brush, fishing forth from his miscellaneous store a plated biscuit-box. But the moral all the same. The articles all made in Germany or elsewhere on Continent. Bryce glad to get out of difficulty by offering Committee.
Business done.—Motion carried for restriction of foreign prison-made goods.
Thursday Afternoon.—"Hist!" said Sir Henry James to Joey C. "A word in thine ear. Prince Arthur away to-night; ground clear; suppose we occupy it? show Prince Arthur how we would manage business, and let the Markiss see that there are statesmen other than those who hail from Hatfield and its dependencies. Here's this import duty added on British yarn entering India. Lancashire members sore about it. Don't know much on subject myself, but can do simple rule in arithmetic. If we can detach seven or eight Lancashire Liberals and put on all our forces, the Government must go. Think how pleasant for Prince Arthur, sitting with his feet in hot water and his head out of the window, to hear the tramp of our messenger along Carlton House Terrace bringing news that Government is out. If we'd only time we might hire man with wooden-leg, like the party in Treasure Island, wasn't it? Sound of wooden-leg tramping along silent broadway where Prince Arthur lives, and is just now nursing his cold, would be most dramatic. That a mere detail. Thing is this, Indian cotton business is so much gun-cotton for Government; I apply torch; up they go—Harcourt, Fowler, Asquith (who was so rude to you the other night), and the rest of them. What do you think?"
Joey C. is sly, de-vilish sly; said nothing. But he winked.
Henry James knew that all was well.
Friday, 12.10 a.m.—Not quite so well as it looked when House met at three o'clock yesterday afternoon. Ministerialists then in state of trepidation; Ministers assuming air of resignation. Odds distinctly in favour of defeat of Government. Henry Fowler, formally recognising situation, had declared they were prepared for the worst. Somehow things got mixed; explosion took place as arranged; gun-cotton went off with genial roar; but it was Henry James blown into the air, and with him Joey C. 109 Members mustered under new Opposition Leadership; 304 going with Ministers. Majority, 195.