Baron de B.-W.
The Problem of the Day:—How to get this year's sleeves into last year's jacket.
Mrs. R. saw a heading in a newspaper. "Board of Trade Returns." Whereupon she exclaimed, "Where's the Board of Trade been to? I suppose for a holiday, and we shall have to pay!"
Someone wrote, "Killing's no Murder."
Nothing well could be absurder!
But to many in our time
Stealing (umbrellas) seems no crime.
Therefore, to a frank plain dealer,
Killing—an umbrella-stealer—
Might be called—by Justice tried—
Justifiable Snobicide!
Affectionate Uncle. "Glad to see you, Rupert. Now tell me all about it. What Form are you in, Old Boy?"
Nephew (just returned from Harrow). "Well, Uncle, not so bad, I think. I can generally manage a couple of Eggs, two Sausages or Kidneys, some Dundee Marmalade, and two Cups of Coffee for Breakfast. I always have a little Luncheon, any amount of Roast Beef or Mutton for Dinner, and I generally look in at the Confectioner's in the afternoon, and invariably wind up with a good Supper. What do you think of that?"
[Disappointed and misunderstood Uncle subsides, and thinks it best to make no comments.]
The Lord Mayor's Show, I saw it from the Strand,
I stood and waited there an hour or so,
Till from afar there came with blare of band
The Lord Mayor's Show.
In civic splendour and with footstep slow
Passed the procession, glorious and grand!
I liked the soldiers well enough, although
The men from Deal looked quite at home on land.
Yet I confess that when I came to go,
I said that once a year's enough to stand
The Lord Mayor's Show.
"The Black Art" Revived!—"The best specimen of the Black Art," quoth the Baron de B. W., "that I have lately seen, is the republication of the works of the Wizard of the North, alias Sir Walter Scott, Bart., in a series of substantial library-shelve-ish volumes, printed in good clear type."
Don't tell me of "room at the top!" It's a case,
I'm sure, of "no thoroughfare." I'm at the base!
Does that not suffice you? There only remains
Some "room at the top" of your head, man, for brains.
A Dickensian Question.—At the date when Martin Chuzzlewit was written, what may fairly be assumed to have been the fashionable hour for dining?
House of Commons, Monday, November 6.—Prince Arthur in fine form to-night; made one of those speeches that distinctly enhance Parliamentary reputation. Ticklish situation for Leader of Opposition in face of Parish Councils Bill. Won't do, with General Election within measurable distance, to declare plump against it; still less will it suit party to support one of principal measures of a Government whose successive steps, however devious, are all bent upon goal of Home Rule. For two nights men rising from Opposition benches have endeavoured to wriggle through this difficulty; been more or less unsuccessful; Prince Arthur, with sure aim and light touch, does and says exactly right thing.
By all means let Hodge have a voice in direction of his own affairs; his best friend, the party who spent themselves in his behalf in Corn-Law days, who acted in his best interests whenever question of political enfranchisement or his relations to parson and squire cropped up—the great Tory party would be the very last to slacken effort for his prosperity. So anxious are they on the score, they would not imperil opportunity by throwing out this Bill on the Second Reading. But Prince Arthur showed, in little asides, that this particular measure is badly conceived, not nearly so good as what would have befallen Hodge had a Unionist Ministry been in office. For an hour the Prince spoke, displaying perfect mastery of the subject, managing, without assuming a hostile attitude, to bestow upon the measure some damaging blows.
First time since House met Mr. G. began to show that keen interest in proceedings which he seemed to have reserved for Home Rule Bill. Sat listening intently with hand to ear as Prince Arthur gracefully glided on from point to point. Pretty little sparring match when Prince Arthur endeavoured to draw him into doing something damaging, either in the way of reticence or declaration, touching George Russell's explosive speech on Friday night. "I would not," observed Prince Arthur, "have said so much, but I presume that in this matter the hon. gentleman represented the Government of which he is a member." Mr. G. shook his head. "Then he disclaims it?" Mr. G. shook his head again. "Oh, then, though he does not dissociate himself from the Under-secretary of India, he does not associate the Government with his remarks?" Mr. G. again shook his head, finally explaining that his young friend and colleague had merely revived former custom—existing "in my early days"—whereby Ministers not in the Cabinet and not connected with department specially concerned in matter at issue, might enter at large into general debate.
"Here, here!" said Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett (Knight), for once in agreement with the views of Arch Enemy.
T. H. Napoleon Boltonparty "objected to ladies being Justices of the Peace."
Justice Herself. "Aha! Show me the man who said that!"
Business done.—More debate on Parish Councils Bill. As usual, adjourned at midnight. Motion made that House forthwith adjourn, Oliver Rollit asks for more. Too early to go home; might as well sit up till one o'clock, and take private Bills. House aghast. Squire of Malwood discreetly says he will think the matter over.
Tuesday.—Another night on Parish Councils. Debate should have finished last night; finally arranged to close it before dinner hour to-day; but it dribbled on to midnight. As there was an hour to spare, Tommy Bowles, who since Session resumed has been silent in six languages, thought he might as well say a few words. Romped in at half-past ten; awkward this; about the hour when Jokim had intended to lift debate out of rut by one of his luminous speeches. Thomas, however, thought House would prefer to hear him. At any rate, he provided opportunity. When at length Jokim spoke upon subject on which he is supreme authority, House almost empty, altogether languid.
Brightened up for moment at Squire of Malwood's happy wit. Jokim, following on line trekked by Prince Arthur, suggested that half of Bill dealing with Poor Law matters should be abandoned. "According to judgment of Solomon," said the Squire, "it was the true mother who would not consent to divide her child in two."
A dreary night made endurable by incursion of Knatchbull-Hugessen—Herbert Thomas, of Faversham division of Kent. For many years his brother sat in House till he finally wobbled into a peerage, and, as Rosebery said, wore his coronet as a crown of thorns because it had been given him by Mr. G. When he was with us here, and one turned to Dod to find him under heading "Hugessen," there was discovered instruction "See Knatchbull-Hugessen." This was explained at the time on score that no one from day to day exactly knew where Hugessen was.
Different with his younger brother. "Sometimes," he said just now, looking sorrowfully round the House, a gleam of comfort brightening his eyes as they rested on a back view of Jimmy Lowther's head, "I believe I'm the only Tory left in the House."
To-night up and smote Parish Councils Bill in uncompromising speech. No truckling to Socialism. No bowing the knee to the Baal Hodge. No leaning on the arm of Rimmon as he goes to worship in the temple of the Compound Householder. The Bill another downward step on the pathway dug out for the chariot of Free Trade; the country going to dogs at accelerated pace.
Small House, but it listened with delight to the most thoroughly honest speech heard from any bench through many Parliaments.
Business done.—Parish Councils Bill read second time.
Thursday.—Still smiling at Prince Arthur's joke; led up to with great skill; last touch of art given in the look of startled surprise with which he regarded uproariously laughing audience. Was passing eulogy on Rhodes and the Chartered Company, forasmuch as, whilst certainly mowing down the Matabele with the Maxim gun, they had spread the benefits of civilisation, "extending railways, extending telegraphs, extending roads."
The Clark of the House causing a Division.
"Exactly," said the Sage of Queen Anne's Gate. "I spoke for an hour and a half, and Balfour puts what I had meant to say in a phrase. What is all this action in Mashonaland, this spending of money, and making of war, but the Extension of Rhodes?"
Maguire undertook to defend Chartered Company against attack of Sage. "Terrible work, Toby," he said, mopping his heated brow. "Much rather approach Lobengula's kraal itself than stand up and face the House."
Had to be done, however, and Maguire not the man to run away from anything approaching a fight. Still he observed precaution of getting as near the door as possible, speaking from remote end of bench, almost outside limits of bar. Also he found some subtle comfort, strength, and consolation in standing on one leg whilst he addressed the Speaker. Sometimes it was the right leg, sometimes the left. Whether on one or the other—not for a moment on two—he described to the charmed House how the cherished object of Mr. Rhodes, the one desire upon which all the energies of the Chartered Company were bent, was that the men of Matabele should "marry and settle down."
Business done.—Discussion of affairs in Matabeleland.
Friday.—Debate on M'Laren's Amendment to Employers' Liability Bill brought to conclusion at midnight. Thought it would be all over before dinner; dragged on hour after hour with ever deepening depression. Seems as if already, in this first fortnight of Autumn Session, energy's sapped; dulness certainly dominant.
"The fact is," said The Squire of Malwood, "there is no fight about the House now Joseph is awa'. Hear he is coming back towards end of next week, balmy from the Bahamas, breezy from the Atlantic. I shouldn't at all wonder if, upon his arrival, a genial change was wrought in things generally."
Business done.—Government defeat averted by majority of 19.
The London Programme.—I entirely approve of the spirited protest lately made by the cabmen against that vile instrument of Monopoly, the "Station Omnibus." But what I want to ask is whether there is no plan of doing away with a still more nefarious specimen of capitalistic greed and oppression—I allude to the "Out-Porter." Why should this minion, of railway tyrants be permitted to take the beer out of the mouths of honest English working-men? I and a number of my pals are constantly loafing round the station in our suburb waiting for a job of luggage-carrying, or if we aren't exactly at the station, we are always to be found at the Public just opposite. Will it be believed that passengers actually prefer to engage this avaricious blackleg, the Out-Porter, instead of employing us! Their paltry excuse is that he charges less than we do and is more civil. That shows him to be a contemptible blackleg! Only a serf of our present miserable social arrangements is ever civil to anybody. Call him an Out-Porter! If me and my pals catch him one of these dark nights we'll make an Out-Patient of him! Is the mere convenience of the public for ever to override the legitimate claims of the deserving unemployed?—Corner Boy.