Hairdresser. "ANY BAY-RUM, SIR?"
Middy. "THANK YOU—A—NO! NOT QUITE so EARLY IN THE MORNING—YOU KNOW!"
It seems Sir E.C., Q.C., likes
The blatant, brazen, Boothian band,
Admires "abstaining" zeal that strikes
The biggest drum with boldest hand.
He says, "You must not judge some others' case
By tastes much more refined," less commonplace.
Yet, as Sir EDWARD disagrees
With those whose tastes he thus divined,
It's manifestly clear he sees
His taste in music's not "refined."
'Twas written long ago by CHAUCER's pen,
"The gretest clerkes ben not the wisest men."
At the Prince of Wales's, Mr. ARTHUR ROBERTS, as Captain Crosstree, is more ARTHUR ROBERTS than ever, and, consequently, immensely droll. While he is on the stage, the audience is convulsed with spasmodic laughter, excepting when he tries to forget himself and his drollery in a loyal attempt at doing justice to Messrs. SIMS' AND PETTITT's words, and to the serious business of some situation intended to be dramatic. At such moments the laughter of the House is checked, a sudden gloom comes over the faces that were but now on the broad grin, even the lineaments of Mr. ROBERTS become agonised, and the audience, like Christopher Sly when bored by the Duke's players, mutter to themselves, "would t'were done." But these painful seconds, which, at the time, seem hours, are, we are glad to say, but brief and passing shadows over Mr. ROBERTS' own quaint humour which speedily reasserts itself, and, the Pettitt-and-Sims fetters being cast aside, the People's ARTHUR is himself again, and more so than ever. And, when he is himself, he is simply the most absurd person that ever faced the footlights.
Miss NELLIE STEWART is a pretty singing, dancing, twisting, twirling Susan. But what induced handsome Miss MARION BURTON, once so gay and sprightly as Cherubino in Le Nozze di Figaro, to essay this musically dreary part of William, and, further, to wear a costume about as unlike that of the nautical and traditional William as can well be imagined, is a puzzle to anyone who knows what she has done and can do. Not a bit of dash in the character; all the good old conventional British Tar taken right out of it. She can indeed say with the fool in The Yeomen of the Guard, "I've got a song to sing, oh!" for she has two or three, but her "voice is wasted on the desert air," as they go for nothing, and therefore probably nobody else could make them go for anything.
Mr. ARTHUR WILLIAMS is funny, but his Variety Show scene, with soliloquy and song, is too long; or rather, it would not be too long, if the piece were only cut down to a two hours' entertainment.
Let this "Comic Opera," for so is it described in the bills, be cut down as ruthlessly, but not as blindly, as William cut down Crosstree; let something catching be substituted for most of the music of the First Act,—specially omitting the "Why, certainly!" interpolation, which is a feeble but evident imitation of Mr. W.S. GILBERT's classic "What, never?" "Well, hardly ever;" let the music of the Second Act be taken out by handfuls, and, if possible, let what remains be replaced by something sparkling; then, with less of sweet but sad William—for the present version of the part is quite "BURTON's Anatomy of Melancholy,"—with less of fascinating but squirming Susan, far less of minor characters generally, and more, by comparison, of the two MACS—meaning the two ARTHURS with the plural names ROBERTS and WILLIAMS,—also a telling song for Mr. CHAUNCEY OLCOTT (whose singing now wins an encore for an indifferent ballad),—with the Captain's-giggy hornpipe of Mr. WILLIE WARD retained, as also the graceful dancing of Miss KATIE SEYMOUR, and then, omitting as much of the plot and authors' written dialogue as can be conveniently spared,—very little of it would be missed,—there is no rhyme or reason why Blue-Eyed Susan should not run on as a Variety Entertainment for any number of nights and days, during which fresh material can be constantly substituted by Messrs. ROBERTS & Co. of the Drollery Company, Unlimited, without racking the fertile brains of Messrs. PETTITT AND SIMS.
Major Spooneleigh. "AND YOU RIDE SO WELL, AND—ER—YOU DRIVE SO WONDERFULLY WELL, AND—ER—YOU DANCE SO—ER—BEAUTIFULLY, AND YOU—ER—PLAY LAWN-TENNIS SO—ER—EXQUISITELY, AND—ER—OF COURSE YOU FISH ALSO?"
Mrs. Dasher. "NEVER FOR COMPLIMENTS, I ASSURE YOU; AND CERTAINLY NOT IN SHALLOW WATERS!"
House of Commons, Monday, March 14.—JACKSON turned up to-night answering questions from Irish Members. This reminds us he's Irish Secretary. Been so of course since Parliament met; but quite forgotten it. Mention this to the SPEAKER who looked a little dull while Captain PRICE was discoursing on Navy Affairs in Committee of Supply. So went up to have a little chat with him in the Chair.
"My dear TOBY," he said, "I don't know whether you meant it, but you've paid JACKSON the highest compliment it is possible to convey. When in these times the CHIEF SECRETARY so manages to conduct business of his department that he himself is temporarily forgotten, he's doing it surpassingly well. My big brother ROBERT was once Chief Secretary, though perhaps you forget that also. He resigned because, as he said, there was not enough work to keep an active man going. That was long time ago. I daresay you had no chance of forgetting during the last five years that Prince ARTHUR was Chief Secretary?"
Cannot claim to have invented the compliment the SPEAKER discerned; merely mentioning matter of fact; but, as he says, when in these days a Chief Secretary manages to get himself forgotten, the wheels at the Irish Office must be going pretty smoothly. JACKSON has not brought about this miraculous change by laying himself out to flatter or court Irish Members. He is exactly the same as he was when he filled office of Financial Secretary; doubtless the same as when he looked after his tanyard in Yorkshire. Goes straight to the point in simple unaffected business manner that ruffles no sensibilities. Fancy he could tan a hide in such a way that it would not feel any resentment.
A predecessor at the Irish Office who succeeded, in more troublesome times, in living on peaceable terms with Irish Members, was CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN. Irish Members, swift judges of character, taking measure of both, came to conclusion nothing to be gained by rowing round them. What killed FORSTER, and turned GEORGE TREVELYAN's hair grey, made CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN smile—not an offensive smile, but one of interested amusement. JACKSON's sense of humour not so keen, but his imperturbability even more impregnable. If Irish Member trailed his coat before him, JACKSON would say, "My dear fellow, won't you get cold? Let me help you on with your coat."
SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, a judge on this particular point, says the MARKISS missed the greatest chance he has had for six months in not putting JACKSON in place of OLD MORALITY.
"Precious good thing for us, TOBY," says the SQUIRE, "that he didn't. JACKSON the very model of a Leader of House, and Prince ARTHUR—well he's Prince ARTHUR."
"But I suppose you don't mean," I venture to ask, "that JACKSON is the exclusive type of a successful Leader?"
"No," says the SQUIRE, with a far-away look.
Business done.—Two Votes in Supply.
Tuesday.—Spent doleful afternoon in Committee of Supply. Circumstances call upon Members below Gangway, Radicals or Irishmen, to come to front, and make at least show of doing something. SAGE OF QUEEN ANNE'S GATE pricks up his ears when Chairman puts question to allow £6 7s. 11d. on account of Sheerness Police Court. Why should Northampton contribute its quota, however small, to expenses of Sheerness Police Court? Debate and Division; after which, the SAGE retired to smoke cigarette through rest of afternoon, and discuss probable date of Dissolution.
Then Irish Members come on. Cream seems spooned off the mass in preparation for festivities on St. Patrick's Day, and only the skimmest of skim milk left. WEBB wobbles to the front; talks out vote for Chicago Royal Committee, although ATTORNEY-GENERAL tells him it will be all right as to Irish interests; being now close upon ten minutes to seven, when Committee must adjourn, WEBSTER hasn't time to make detailed explanations, but promises to do so on Report. WEBB maunders on all the same, and Vote postponed.
Great day for FLYNN. TIM HEALY thinks he's pretty smart as a debater; SEXTON believes he knows a thing or two; O'BRIEN is understood to be something of an orator. FLYNN will show House how all these qualities may be combined in one man. Does it by the tiresome twenty minutes, the lamentable half-hour; popping up on every question with comically judicial air; talking on with fatal feeble flatulent fluency, whilst GILL sits nursing his hat awaiting his turn.
Alack for Irish humour, eloquence and deviltry, that it should come to this!
Whilst FLYNN once again turns on the tap of his tepid dish-water, news comes that Lord HAMPDEN died this morning in far-off Pau. HAMPDEN was the BRAND who sat in Chair during Parliament of 1874, and wrestled nightly with the "bhoys" when they were in their prime—MAJOR O'GORMAN rollicking through the night; JOSEPH GILLIS with lean hand outstretched and his "It seems to me, MR. SPEAKER"; PARNELL in the white heat of passion; DELAHUNTY with his One Pound Notes, and poor MCCARTHY DOWNING with his scared look and his indescribable but unmistakable air of one accustomed to frequent the best society in Skibbereen.
After a fourth speech from FLYNN, with another to follow from WEBB, one almost envies the EX-SPEAKER lying at rest at the foot of the Pyrenees.
Business done.—A few Votes in Supply.
Thursday.—St. Patrick's Day in the evening. Irish Members rose to occasion; indeed, at one time O'KELLY and JOHN O'CONNOR rose together; remained on their legs in defiance of Standing Orders and angry protest of Chairman. Seemed as if someone must be suspended pour encourager les autres. Storm suddenly stilled; rising passion subdued by appearance of ALPHEUS CLEOPHAS on the scene, wanting to know about the Refreshment-bar in the Lobby. which, he said, was lowering to the dignity and respectability of House.
Friday 12·15 A.M.—All this in Committee of Supply, which came to end at midnight. Then Report of Supply brought on; uproar renewed; Vote for Irish Teachers' Pension Fund under discussion. Irish Members mysteriously disappeared; SEXTON, understood to have ready prodigious speech on the subject, nowhere to be found. "JOHN O'CONNOR," NOLAN hoarsely whispered, "you have the longest legs in the Party; go and look up the bhoys, and I'll talk."
Silently but swiftly LONG JOHN stole forth on his mission; NOLAN nobly performed his part. At end of forty minutes' breathless talk, the Colonel, feeling his mouth growing parched, moved adjournment of House. SPEAKER didn't recognise relevancy of argument; declined to put the question.
"The Hon. Member," he said, "has spoken for forty minutes, and not given a single reason in favour of his proposal."
"I was coming to that point," said NOLAN, "and, if it is quite in order, I will now approach it."
Ruled out of order. LONG JOHN, back from his foray, in course of which had hunted up SEXTON, threw himself into breach; moved the adjournment for irresistible reason.
"I object," he said, "to this important subject being dealt with at nearly one o'clock in the morning on St. Patrick's night."
T.W. RUSSELL, condoled with his compatriots below Gangway on difficulties of situation. "Certainly hard," he said, "that on St. Patrick's night they should be called upon to discuss questions involving facts and figures." BALFOUR opposed adjournment; CONYBEARE strode in; commenced what promised to be long speech; Prince ARTHUR moved Closure; carried by nearly a hundred majority.
1·35 A.M.—House just back after division on question of adjournment; Ministerialists in full muster and full of fight; 41 for adjournment, 121 against. As if nothing been said during previous hour-and-half, ILLINGWORTH urges Prince ARTHUR to concede adjournment; PRINCE ARTHUR rises to reply. Irish Members, pulling themselves together, walk steadily out, amid ribald laughter from Ministerialists. Once more the CURSE OF CAMBOURNE turns up. This seems, quite naturally, to suggest the Closure; sort of automatic procedure; CONYBEARE—Closure. One more division just to wind up, and at ten minutes past two Vote carried and House up.
Business done.—Revival of old times.
Saturday, 1·20 A.M.—House just up, after prolonged wrangle, lasting, with interval for dinner, straight through from two o'clock yesterday afternoon. Met then for Morning Sitting designed to make progress with financial business. For four hours disputed how business was to be arranged. This left one hour for doing it. Sitting suspended at seven, resumed at nine.
At it again talking about Royalties on Gold in Wales. Domestic Policy in Zululand, the Irish Question in the Falkland Islands, and Parliamentary Reporting. All this led gently up to passing Vote on Account; a conclusion finally arrived at with the assistance of the Closure.
Business done.—Vote on Account taken.
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