Lord Battersea has rather cut the place in which he long lingered as a Whip, and Lord Dartmouth is not often seen in the place where through many Sessions Lord Lewisham used to walk about, Whips' book in hand, endeavouring to keep a House through the dinner hour. Lord Kensington is a regular frequenter of the Lobby, and instinctively takes his stand near the door leading to the staircase where through many Sessions he kept guard, barring the passage of unpaired members. Lord Kensington is not a man of supercilious manner, but there was something of unmistakable scorn in his eyes when they first alighted on the screen which his successors in the Ministerial Whips' seat last Session introduced. Certainly a searching wind creeps up the staircase from Palace Yard when it is wintry weather. But Lord Kensington sat there from 1880 to 1885 without so much as a rug on his knees. A more degenerate race are inconsolable without some contrivance for warding off the draught. In ordinary circumstances this object might easily be attained. A screen of fair proportions flanking the bench by the Whips' side would be fully effective. But this is the main entrance to the Lobby. A full-sized screen would be impossible. Accordingly, a something has been made considerably too tall for the base upon which it stands. The consequence is embarrassing, sometimes appalling. Either the Thing falls outward when the glass door is opened, scaring the new arrival, or it flops inward, threatening to crush Mr. Causton, and cut off, in its flower, a useful life.

LORD DENMAN AND MR. FARMER-ATKINSON.

LORD DENMAN AND MR. ATKINSON.

Lord Cranbrook has long got over the habit once dominant of revisiting the scenes in which his political fortunes were established. Lord Denman never had a seat in the Commons, but his sad, grey figure, crowned with the purple smoking cap, was familiar in the Lobby in the last Parliament. The attraction for him was removed when Mr. Farmer-Atkinson retired from the political stage. In the former member for Boston, Lord Denman found a kindred spirit. They made a pact together whereby the peer was to take charge of the Commoner's Bills when they reached the Upper House, Mr. Atkinson performing a kindred service for his noble friend when his Woman's Suffrage Bill had run the gauntlet of the Lords. It came to pass that opportunity was not forthcoming on either side for fulfilment of this pledge. The Peers would not pass Lord Denman's Bill, nor did the Commons encourage Mr. Atkinson's legislative efforts. Still, they took counsel together, prepared for emergencies. Sometimes they would be found in consultation by the big brass gates that shut off the House of Lords from common people. Oftener Lord Denman, having fuller leisure, sought Mr. Atkinson in the Lobby of the Commons. Beyond particular measures for the good of the country in which they were interested, they cherished a dream of a combination between really sensible men of both Houses, who, rising above party purposes and prejudices, should devote themselves heart and soul to placing the empire on a sounder foundation.

The development of this plan was interrupted by officious friends placing some restraint on the movements of Mr. Farmer-Atkinson, and his (only temporary it is to be hoped) withdrawal from public life.

LORD HERSCHELL.

TWO UMBRELLAS.

Lord Herschell, once a regular frequenter of the Lobby, does not often find time to look in now that he is Lord Chancellor, and in addition to the ordinary weighty calls of his office, has in hand the revision of the Commission of the Peace. Another peer, once a constant visitor, who has abandoned the place, is the Earl of Ravensworth. He was long known in the House of Commons as Lord Eslington, a representative of the highest type of county member. When he succeeded to the peerage he spent more time in the Lobby of the Commons than on the red benches of the House of Lords. Whatever the season of the year or the prospect of the weather, he brought his umbrella with him, a heavily constructed article, capable of sustaining the weight of a properly tall man when he leaned upon it, whilst he conversed with a circle of friends.