Chapter 2

WELL, we've bin a going on much as usual at our grand old Manshun House under our trewly liberal LORD MARE, but I ain't had nothink werry new to tell about, till a few nites ago, when we had what I can truthfully call a reel staggerer, and no mistake. It seems as it's allers the custon, when a Embassadore, who has made hisself werry poplar, is gitting jest a leetle tired of us, and begins to si for Ome sweet Ome, for the principalest Gent in London to give him sitch a grand Bankwet as he ain't never seen afore, and ain't never likely for to see again. So the LORD MARE, hearing as the French Embassadore was in that werry dellicate sitiwation, arsked about three hundred of the most heminent Gents in all London to come to the Manshun House to meet him, and they all came, as in course they wood do, and that was one of the werry grandest Bankwets as regards silly brated Gests as ewen I ewer had the honner of waiting on.

And now for the staggerers! Just to begin with, why the French Embassadore is no more a Frenchman than I am! for his name it's WODDINGTON, and so was his Father's before him, and strange to say, thanks, I spose, to the splendid dinner, _et setterer_, as was guv him, he acshally told us as he rowed in the Winning Boat at the Uniwersity Boat-race at Putney, ewer so many years ago! Werry like a Frenchman, suttenly, or, as I should prefer saying, werry like a Whale! Of course all the Gents present, being reel Gents, looked quite as if they beleeved it all; but, when he afterwards went on to say that his Grate Grandfather took his most religious and grayshus Majesty, KING CHARLES THE SECOND, right up into the Hoak Tree, and so saved his preshus life, I saw sum two or three of the werry hiest on 'em trying in wain to look quite serious, as if they bleeved it all; and one werry smart young feller near me said to his friend, "Why not call it the Hoax Tree"? I didn't kno quite what he meant, but they both had a quiet larf over it.

He gave us a few more staggerers, but not quite equal to the King Charles one, and of course we coud all make allowances for him, as it was his last chance in such a party as that was. But he made up for it all before he left, by speaking of the Grand Old Copperation as one of the werry noblest bodys in the world, and as having made its mark in the history of this great Country, and how artily he hoped it would continue and flurrish for ever! I don't suppose as there was any county counsellers among so distingwisht a Body, or I should like to know what they thort of the Embassadore's opinion of us! An I'm thinkin of wizitin Parry myself and cummin out strong. And wy not? They tell me it will make me kwite young again, for I shall go over there a helderly henglish waiter and reappear in Parry as a "garsong" which is french for "a young man."

ROBERT.

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BRIGHTON BOORS.

[MR. GLADSTONE was mobbed by an immense crowd on Sunday, the 5th.]

O Brighton, it isn't a thing to be proud of That people, the fat uns as well as the bony uns, Should squeeze an old Gentleman, crushed in a crowd of Brightonians.

All watering-places you claim to be Queen of, As proud as the Tyrians or the Sidonians? Your manners don't match; such behaviour seems green of Brightonians.

You scare away visitors, who are affrighted By folks rude as Goths, Huns, or wild Caledonians. Such staring shows that in two ways you're short-sighted Brightonians.

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OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.--CHATTO AND WINDUS have published, in handy form, cloth bound, and handsomely printed, an edition of JUSTIN MCCARTHY'S novels. There are, ten in all, going at half-a-crown a-piece, and well worth the money. The literary style is excellent--not a matter of course in the writing of novels--the tone wholesome, whilst on every page gleams the light of genuine, if gentle humour. In looking through the pages of this charming little library, my Baronite is inclined to regret that Mr. MCCARTHY should, to some extent, have given up to Politics what was meant for Literature.

B. DE B.-W.

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* * * * *

THE ASSAULT!!

_Beleaguers babble around the Battering-Ram:--_

_Balfourius_ (_musingly_). "Heroes tall Dislodging pinnacle and parapet Upon the tortoise creeping to the wall."

_Chamberlainus_ (_sardonically_). Heroes tall, indeed! Have the distressed defenders of this untenable Citadel any such? GLADSTONIUS is a sort of hero, perhaps, but hardly tall; HARCOURTIUS is tall indeed, but no hero. Aha!

_Saundersonius_ (_sharply_). Yes; and we have had too much of that "tortoise-creeping" business. Sharp's the word now, I hope. BALFOURIUS'S Battering-Ram--though the murderous ruffians--I mean excited politicians--_did_ denounce it, is better than all your tortoises!

_Balfourius_ (_completing his quotation_). "Lances in ambush set."

_Saundersonius._ Oh yes, they're all very well--in their way. A School of Strategy for our "young bloods," with secret _séances_, and--ahem!--_Fagin_-like rehearsals, is not a bad notion. But on the whole I agree with _Moloch_:--

"My sentence is for open war: of wiles, More inexpert, I boast not: there let those Contrive who need, or when they need, not now. For while they sit contriving, shall the rest, Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait The signal to arise, sit lingering here, Prisoners of his tyranny who reigns By our delay? No, let us rather choose, Arm'd with hell-flames and fury all at once, O'er these high towers to force resistless way, Turning Obstruction into horrid arms Against the Obstructor; when to meet the noise Of his 'iniquitous' engine, he shall hear Ulsterian thunder; and for lightning set Green fire and rockets shot with equal rage Among his 'items;' and his seat itself Shake with Tartarean tactics, 'dirty tricks,' His own invented dodges."

_Grandolphus_ (_tugging at Balfourius's tunic-tails_). Ha! ha! ha! Well quoted, my Orange-plumed Hyperborean hero! (_Aside: I must read up the bards a bit. Didn't know they were so practically pertinent. How handy that_ "_senesque_" _bit came in the other day!_)

_Balfourius_ (_fidgeting_). I say, GRANDOLPHUS, if you'd tug at the rope, instead of my tails, I fancy you'd tire me less, and have more effect on the Ram.

_Grandolphus_ (_cheerily_). Ah, my old friend, I assure you I intend to stick to _you_ "loyally and unhesitatingly."

_Balfourius_ (_drily_). Oh--_thanks!!!_

_Chamberlainus._ Never _were_ such a United lot as we are:

(_Sings sotto voce._)

_For I love dear_ B. _as a brother, I do,_ _And dear_ B. _he worships me;_ _But we'll both be blowed if we'll either be stowed_ _In the other chap's hold, you see!_

_Balfourius._ What's that you say?

_Chamberlainus._ Oh, merely humming "Birds in their little nests agree."

_Balfourius._ Ah, as the Chief says, there'll be plenty of opportunity for personal sacrifice and pulling together before we're through with this siege. To work this Battering-Ram with effect, unanimity and simultaneity of effort are especially essential.

_Saundersonius._ Quite so! So bear a hand--_at the rope_, GRANDOLPHUS, if you please. Now then, boys--_all together!!!_ BANG!!!!!!

_Grand Old Voice_ (_from within_). "When they _do_ agree, their unanimity is wonderful." Wonder if that gate will stand the shock! Must disable that Rampant Ram of theirs--somehow.

[_Left keeping his eye on 'em._

* * * * *

SUFFICIENTLY ANTIQUE.--Said TOMKINS, "I won't say my ancestors were in this Country before the Flood, _but_ they came in with the High Tide."

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A FYTTE OF THE BLUES.

BY AN OLD "CROCK."

(_After reading the rattling verses of_ "Tis," _entitled "Good Luck!" in the "Granta."_)

Good old _Granta_! They set the blood glowing, Your verse-grinder's galloping lines, There seems rare inspiration in Rowing! The Muse, who politely declines To patronise pessimist twitters, Has smiled on these stanzas, which smack Of health, honest zeal, foaming "bitters," And vigour of brain and of back.

Good luck to the Light Blues! That burden Befits rattling rhymes from the Cam, Their "movement" might rouse a Dame DURDEN, Or fire a cold victim of cram. Why it stirs up "old Crocks" to peruse 'em-- Slashing lines on "a slashing octette"-- They feel, though 'tis hard to "enthuse" 'em, There _must_ be some life in 'em yet.

Old Crocks! Oh, exuberant younkers! You "guy" "the old gang" as "played out," As fogies, and fussers, and funkers, You've over-much reason, no doubt. But, great Scott! as your rowing-rhymes rattle And lilt lyric praise of the Crews, We too sniff the air of the battle! We too have a Fit of the Blues.

It's oh! just to "swing behind LEWIS," A "youngster as strong as an ox"! Or be one who true Boss of the Crew is,-- Your "pet Palinurus"--the Cox! To feel all the blood in one glowing, And--heedless of love, toil, and "tin"-- Know naught in creation save--Rowing. Deems nothing worth much save--a WIN!

Five minutes, my boys, of such feeling, When rivals look beaten and blown, When the nose of your ship is just stealing Ahead, when your muscles have grown To thews, that--_pro tem._--are Titanic, Are worth a whole year of _our_ lives, Whose waistbands are--well, Aldermanic, Who've wrinkles, and worries, and wives!

Well, here's to the two tints of azure, The Dark Blue as well as the Light! At least there's one thing we can say sure,-- There'll be no blue funk in their fight. And here's to the Bard of the _Granta_, Who sings without "side," "sniff," or "shop." May he live (if he wish it), to plant a Big bay on Parnassus's top!

* * * * *

TIM O'HOWLIGAN'S LAMENT.

AIR--"_Arrah! darlints, we can't do without ye!"_

AH! shure boys, the world has gone crazy, And there's plinty of throuble in shtore, Ivery mornin' I wake up onaisy Bekase I can't shleep any more. 'Twas CROMWELL, bad scran to 'im, done it, Him that murdhered King CHARLES, ochone! And since the black villin begun it Ould Erin's done nothing but groan, And moan, It would soften the heart of a shtone.

By the poker, I'm boilin' with passion Whin I think of the laws that they make; At a fair the bhoys heads ye can't smash in, Nor get dacently dhrunk at a wake. There's only twelve pince in a shillin', And not more than two pints in a quart, Onless you are cliver at fillin', And can make it hould more than it ought. Don't be caught, Or, be jabers, they'll make you pay for't.

Where's the kings and the princes of Erin That lived on purtaties and point, And niver saw year out and year in The divil a taste of a joint? Thim toirants now buy all our bacon, And the linen, and butther, and that, All that grows in the counthry is taken From Antrim to Mullinavat. Poor Pat Has to sell at a profut, that's flat.

Well, honies, I'll give ye a hint, And let ivery one do it who can; When the bag of thirteens is all spint, Set up for a Parliament man. Thim's the boys that gets lashins of drinkin', And they dine wanst a week wid the Queen, Where the glasses are niver done clinkin', Wid the Royalties jokin' and spreein', Jubileein', And such doins as niver was seen.

* * * * *

A COMPLAINT AND SIMPLE REMEDY.--

Among the Requests in our ecclesiastical contemporary, _The Guardian_, recently appeared one asking for an effectual way of "_exterminating dry rot, and preventing its re-appearance in a church_." Why doesn't the reverend inquirer try somebody else's Sermons? Or have no Sermons at all?

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NOTHING more delights our old friend than to get hold of a real good word, and use it with effect. "I wish I knew what is going to win the Derby this year," observed her Niece. "Ah, my dear," replied her Aunt, "I might be able to tell you if I were a Vaccinator."

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BEST DAY IN THE WEEK FOR MAKING A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE.--In London, Monday is the most appropriate, as being dedicated to the "Monday Pops."

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ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

_House of Commons, Monday, March 6._--"The SPEAKER took the Chair at three o'clock." That is an extract from the _Journals of the House_, a fascinating literary work, ably edited by Mr. PALGRAVE with the assistance of Mr. MILMAN, much in favour at MUDIE'S. Last time I saw SPEAKER rise from Chair was Banquet at Mansion House given by way of farewell to M. WADDINGTON. Very remarkable scene it was. In ordinary times SPEAKER of House of Commons is personally unknown to outside public. He takes no part in debate; never goes on Midlothian Campaigns; belongs to no faction; has no political following; and should have no enemy. British public, regarding with close attention the fascinating arena at Westminster, have evidently formed clear opinion of its present President. When list of guests whom LORD MAYOR delighted to honour read out by Toastmaster, name of SPEAKER received with enthusiastic and prolonged applause. House of Commons men present, of whom there was large muster, evidently taken by surprise. They know the SPEAKER, because they daily live with him. How outside public should have been seized with such keen appreciation of his worth was more than they were prepared for.

This may have been, probably was, to some extent a _succès d'estime_. Mr. PEEL'S speech was genuine triumph; very brief, the shortest of the series, but incomparably the best; lofty in tone, perfect in delivery, saying just the right thing at the right moment in the right way. Its effect at Mansion House something like that which electrified House when Mr. PEEL, standing on steps of Chair, faced it for first time as its SPEAKER, revealing, even to those who had known him long, the full depths of his nature and the towering height of his capacity.

"_Mon Dieu_, TOBEE," said an eminent Frenchman, "the world in both hemispheres has always envied you the possession of your House of Commons. Now we know you have a Speaker worthy of its best traditions."

Banquet a great success; certainly the most brilliant galaxy of guests drawn together in same place since Mr. PHELPS, the American Minister, said farewell in memorable speech. Much struck with completeness of arrangements. Even the waiters imbued with consciousness of great occasion.

"Hope you enjide your dinner, Sir?" said one to me, when dessert placed on table.

"Excellent," I said; "perhaps the whitebait done a little too much; showed tendency to present itself in fragments; but 'twas nothing."

"Yessir," said the Waiter, diligently brushing off imaginary crumbs. "I'm going now, Sir."

"Ah," I said; "then I suppose you don't wait to hear the speeches; flow of reason, you know, quite a treat."

"Yessir," said he, still pegging away at the spotless table-cloth. "Can I get you anything more, Sir?"

"No, thank you," I said, quite touched at the man's considerate attention, the more marked since, as far as I recognised him, I had not seen him before. "I've done excellently."

"Yessir. I'm going now." Hardly seemed able to part. Not sure whether, in circumstances of international amity, I shouldn't have shaken hands with him. Made half advance in that direction. He quickly advanced his hand, but after glance at my extended palm, as rapidly withdrew it. Perhaps he was right. Not usual to shake hands with Waiter, though really, on occasion like this, one might disregard conventionalities. Waiter lingeringly withdrew, still keeping his eye on me, as if expecting me to call him back. Nodded a friendly farewell, and pensively peeled an orange, thinking how one touch of nature makes us kin. This good Waiter and I quite subdued by the graceful, generous thought of Lord Mayor KNILL, who has added one more link to the chain that binds in amity two nations that have fought all the way from Cressy to Waterloo.

_Business done._--Got into Committee on Navy Estimates. In the Lobby sort of rehearsal of new Battle of Boyne. The other night SAUNDERSON said something disrespectful of Irish Members. WILLIE REDMOND, from his proud position among nobility and gentry above Gangway, called out, "You wouldn't say that in the Lobby." "Say it anywhere," responded the Colonel, ever ready to oblige.

Next day wrote letter to REDMOND, incidentally mentioning that if he wanted to hear the words over again, should meet him in Lobby to-night after questions. Nothing nearer REDMOND'S heart's desire. At five o'clock Colonel, accompanied by another military gentleman, carrying his cloak, a pair of pistols, a stiletto, a bottle of _eau de Cologne_, a sponge, and a clothes-brush, sternly strode into Lobby. Carefully counted paces till he was standing as nearly as possible on centre tile; folded arms, and wished that Night or REDMOND would come. Colonel WARING, with military accoutrements and cloak; stood a pace and a half to the left rear. Presently entered REDMOND, accompanied by J. J. O'KELLY, also carrying cloak. Secreted in folds were shillelagh, bottle of whiskey, pair of spurs, a toothpick, and a freshly-minted crown-piece. This last, at suitable moment, to be flung across Lobby; (friend secretly told off to be on alert to pick it up.) Action to be explained as typical of throwing King's Crown into the Boyne. The principals approaching, REDMOND, after manner of schoolboys, who edge up to each other, each hoping the other doesn't want to fight, asked Colonel to "say it again." "Certainly; but say what?" Here difficulty began, which spoiled whole business. REDMOND insisted upon being called a murderer. SAUNDERSON punctilious on minor points, wouldn't go quite so far in his desire to oblige. Angry altercation followed; Members, to number of something like hundred, formed ring. REDMOND, with right shoulder aggressively hoisted, spoke over it at the Colonel. Colonel stood erect, with hands loosely hanging by his side, ready for emergencies. Crowd grew thicker and more excited. "Expected every moment would be our next," as CLANCY breathlessly put it. But in the end storm blew itself out. Nothing happened, and crowd disappointedly dispersed.

Ulster will fight, But----_not to-night._

_Thursday._--Opposition mustered to-day in high spirits; meeting at Carlton yesterday addressed by MARKISS and Prince ARTHUR; GRANDOLPH, looking in, took back seat in his customary retiring fashion. Meeting insisted on his coming to the front; made spirited speech; scarcely a dry eye in the Club when, looking shyly across at Prince ARTHUR, he alluded to him as his "old political friend," his "brilliant and esteemed Parliamentary Leader."

"I think," said the MARKISS, as meeting dispersed, "this will drive nail in coffin of Home-Rule Bill, and make things pretty hot for Mr. G. As HART DYKE epigrammatically puts it, 'We Unionists, above all others, should be united.'"

This, as I mentioned, happened yesterday. This afternoon Opposition mustered in anticipation of aggressive action by Mr. G. Had given notice to move suspension of Twelve o'Clock Rule, in order to make progress with Estimates.

"Not if we know it," said Right Hon. JAMES LOWTHER, commonly called "JEMMIE."

Mr. G., previous to moving Resolution, explained there was no intention of sitting late; Suspension Standing Order was matter of precaution designed to prevent arbitrary carrying over of Amendments when adequately discussed. Prince ARTHUR'S keen eye discerned that this might be so construed as to convey no advantage to Government. When twelve o'clock came Debate might be diverged on to lines of wrangle round Question of Adjournment, and so House up and nothing done. On this understanding he declared he would not resist Motion of Leader of House. Then JEMMIE, rushing to the front, made the running. Did Mr. G. intend, in any case, to take Second Reading of Home-Rule Bill on Thursday next? Mr. G. nodded assent. "Very well, then I'll divide against you," JEMMIE roared across the pained figure of his esteemed Leader. Not to be moved by blandishment or argument from this position. Prince ARTHUR, seeing matters hopeless, haughtily strode forth, GRANDOLPH loyally accompanying him. But more than half his old colleagues stayed behind with JEMMIE LOWTHER who got Opposition soundly beaten by majority of 85.

"There's only one thing we want to run our majority over 100," said SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, smiling beneficently from Treasury Bench. "Another meeting of the Party at the Carlton Club will do it."

"What did you mean by to-night's performance?" I asked JEMMIE, later.

"Mean? I meant business. I'm a little tired of lurking in background seeing men come to front who haven't half my ability, political acumen, or Parliamentary knowledge. I intend to have a Party of my own. There has been a Fourth Party, and before that there was a Tea-room Party, and a Cave of Adullam. I shall eclipse them all."

"And under what name do you think history will know your faction?" I asked, much interested.

The Right Hon. took up a piece of paper, and on it wrote the words, "LOWTHER'S ARCADE."

_Business done._--WOLMER'S Amendment on the Navy Estimates negatived.

_Friday._--Prince ARTHUR, and Statesman to whom AUSTEN CHAMBERLAIN distantly alludes as "My Right Hon. friend," sit separated by width of House. But, in assaults on Government, they are not divided. Idle stories about differences of opinion arising between them quite unnecessarily denied.

"I never look at them," said TREVELYAN, "without recalling to mind a passage in what is, I think, my favourite among DICKENS'S novels. You remember the scene in _Great Expectations_, where _Joe Gargery_ visits _Pip_, in his day of prosperity, in London? 'Ever best of friends,' says JOE (CHAMBERLAIN). 'Dear JOE,' says Prince ARTHUR. 'You know, PIP,' says JOE, 'as you and me were ever friends, and it were looked forrerd to betwixt us as bein' calc'lated to lead to larks.'"

The expectation not lacking of past fulfilment; full of promise in days near at hand.

_Business done._--Sat from two to seven discussing whether we shall sit to-morrow in order to make progress with public business. Finally decided we shall. Meanwhile, morning sitting slipped away.