Business done.—Miscellaneous, and not much.
Thursday.—"Where do you put the Cow?"
"Was ever man interrupted with such a question in such circumstances?" asked Jesse Collings, unconsciously quoting Tristram Shandy's father.
Circumstances sufficiently strange to make a man quote Sterne, even if he'd never read his masterpiece. House in Committee on Budget Bill. Storey moved Amendment on Clause 26, dealing with exemption from Inhabited House Duty of tenement buildings. Chancellor of the Exchequer taken part in the Debate. Charles Russell said a few words. House in most serious, not to say depressed mood. Subject particularly inviting for Jesse; always advocated welfare of Working Classes; now seized opportunity to descant on theme. Detailed with growing warmth arrangements desirable for perfecting sanitation of houses for Working Classes; when Tanner, crossing arms and legs, and cocking head on one side, with provoking appearance of keen interest, suddenly submitted this problem:—
"Where do you put the Cow?"
Opposition laughed. Ministerialists cried, "Order!" Various courses open to Jesse. Might have assumed air of interested inquiry. Cow? What Cow? Why drag in the Cow? Might have slain Tanner with a stony stare, and left him to drag his untimely quadruped off the ground. But Jesse took the Cow seriously. Allowed it to get its horns entangled amid thread of his argument. Glared angrily upon the pachydermatous Tanner, and having thus played into his hands, loftily declared, "I do not propose to take any notice of the insult."
"It makes me smile," said Swift MacNeill, walking out for fear Goschen should hear his smile and clap a penny on his Income-Tax.
"It makes me smile."
A long night for Jokim, wrestling for his Budget. Ominous gathering on Front Bench. Mr. G., not seen lately, comes down. To him foregathers Harcourt. Assaults on Budget begun from below the Gangway. Proposed to postpone clauses on which Local Budget Bill will be built up. Jokim shakes his head. Mr. G. amazed at his refusal to listen to reasonable suggestion. Harcourt rises, meaning to run atilt at Jokim. Chairman of Committees puts out his foot, nearly trips him up. Harcourt turns and bends on Courtney expressive glance. Never much love lost between these two. Now Courtney in official position can snub Harcourt—and does. Shall Harcourt go for him? Shall he take him up in his powerful arms and tear him to pieces with delighted teeth? A moment's pause, whilst Harcourt, towering at table, toying nervously with eyeglass, looks down on Chairman who has just ruled him out of order. Shall he? Struggles with his suddenly awakened wrath, gulps it down, turns aside to talk of something else.