Punch (88.1885)

148

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[March 28, 1885.

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM

THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

House of Commons, Monday Night, March 16.—Forgot to
mention in proper place flash of humour from Sir Patrick O’Brien.
It happened on Friday morning about Three o’Clock. T. P. O’Connor
blatantly orating; twelve to fifteen Members lying about in various
stages of drowsiness. Sir Pat himself occasionally falls off; wakes
up and audibly joins in the conversation.

“ I protest against this disorderly conduot,” says T. P., always a
champion of ’’order. “ The Hon. Baronet is constantly interrupting
me.”

“Sir,” said Sir Patrick, with a graceful bow, and Louis-Quatorze
wave of the hand, “ the hon. gentleman misinterprets my motive. I
interrupted it is true. But it was with the intention of waking the
hon. gentleman’s audience.” A neat blow this, delivered with grace
and skill.

Afghanistan on again to-night. Leaders in both Houses put
questions to Headstone to elucidate his statement on understanding

Gagged.” Tuesday, March 17.

with Russia about the outposts. Marquis of Salisbury is spokesman
in one House, Ashhead Bartlett in the other, with Wolff to back
him up with similar question. As for Stafeord Northcote, he sits
and looks on. . .

Sir Henry Wolff greatly fluttered by little incidents in Glad-
stone’s speech, in reply. Several times, in most marked manner,
Prime Minister referred to him as “ the Hon. Baronet.”

“Not at all,” says Sir Henry, when friends press round him to
congratulate him on the significance of this incident. “Nothing in
it, 1 assure you. Yes, I remember how after Aboukir Napoleon
greeted Colonel Murat as General. But no similarity in eases.
Still I won’t say but what I know that Gladstone has his eye upon
me. _ Just before Dueferin went to Egypt some rather significant
inquiries were made of me, and I am told that when things were
looking very bad with France six months ago a distinguished, person
said [Ah, if we’d only Wolff in Paris!’ Gladstone and I
sometimes gird at each other in public. But for my own part don’t
mind acknowledging that he’s a great man. But this about the
Baronet was merely a slip. Nothing in it at all.”

Herbert Maxwell, undaunted by ugly tumble last week, comes
back on Bengal Tenancy Bill. The Maharajah been at him again
with a long telegram, which he skilfully throws into series of
questions, and presents at head of J. K. Cross. Particularly pleased
with one question, as to whether native Member of the Council had
or had not moved for a delay of three weeks “to permit the Bill
being published in the Yernacnlar Gautee.”

“ That ’ll fetch ’em,” said Herbert, serenely surveying himself
in the glass before leaving for the Senate. “ Don’t know what a
Vernacular Gautee is, but it sounds well.”

When question put, Cross, with charming air of innocence,
asked what was the meaning of Vernacular Gautee ? This rather a
poser; but Maxwell equal to occasion. “ Gautee ?” says he, with
a compassionate look at an Under-Secretary so painfully ignorant.
“ It’s—ah— don’t you know—a vernacular dialect of Bengal.”
Turned out, after all, that it was really an invention of the tele-
graph-clerk, and should have been written Gazette. General
impression that Maxwell will now leave alone the Bengal Tenancy
Bill. But we shall see.

Gladstone here till long after midnight, waiting to make

statement on Afghan affairs. But the Irish Members talk on, and
Gladstone sits sleepy and gagged.

Business done.—Navy Estimates moved.

Tuesday Night.—“ Conservative Party,” said Labby, “just now
reminds me of the Army of the Prince of Monaco. The officers are
a trifle disproportionate in number to the rank and file.”

Certainly there’s no lack of Leaders. Chaplin of course answers
for Domestic Policy, whilst on Foreign Affairs there’s Ashhead
Bartlett, Wolff, Onslow, and Henry the Tyler, in whose inju-
dicious absence to-night, Ashhead scored. But a greater than any
appeared upon the scene to-night. It happened in the Committee
on the Seats Bill. Ritchie moved his Amendment, abolishing two-
membered constituencies. The usual things had been said by Dilke
and Northcote. Ritchie, having gravely played his part in the
farce, completed it by proposing to withdraw his Amendment.

The hour was come, and here was the man, standing in the
corner-seat below the Gangway, sacred to the memory of Newde-
gate, puffing his cheeks and scorching up with terrible glance the
Radicals below the Gangway, who hailed his appearance with burst
of ironical cheering.

It was Hicks, ne Simpson, J.P. and D.L. for Co. Cambridge,
(High Sheriff, 1862), and Vice-Chairman of Quarter Sessions.

Hicks, always terrible to behold in these circumstances, now
literally ablaze with indignation. His gallant bearing recalls to the
memory of the oldest playgoer the once celebrated hero of transpon-
tine melodrama, known as “ Brayvo Hicks!” Cross-examined
Chairman as to whether he might subsequently put another Amend-
ment identical [with that of Ritchie’s, just discussed. Chairman
rather thought not. “Very well,” says Brayvo Hicks, drawing him-
self up, and turning one of his terrible glances upon Radical camp,
“then I shall say a few words now.”

Knew that would draw fire—and it did. Roar from the Radicals.
Brayvo Hicks firm as a rock, drawn up to fullest height; lips
determinedly pursed; cheeks inflated, eyes a-flame with light of
battle; Radicals roar, and cheer,
and laugh. The more they laugh,
the more determined Hicks looked,
and the more he straightened him-
self up, and glared upon them,
the more they laughed. When
noise subsided, Hicks proceeded.

Hotly denounced compact between
two front Benches. Always dis-
liked it, he said, and the more he
saw of it, the worse it proved.

“ Sir,” he cried, in a voice of
thunder, “I see the liberties of
this House slipping from under our
feet.”

Radicals roared again at this
simile, and at the infuriated manner
in which the orator looked at the
boots of Sir Walter Barttelot,
who was sitting next to him. But
Dilke says Hicks is all right.

1 ‘ Tories of the old school like the
Bravo,” he says, “always, whilst
they could, kept our liberties under
their feet; and the Bravo, in pro-
phetic vision, sees them now slip-
ping away.”

After his oration, Hicks sat
down, and would not agree to any-
thing. Bellowed “ No F” when the
Chairman said “ The Ayes have it,” and finally succeeded in bringing
about Division, in which 44 Conservatives went one way, and the
rest, headed by Stafford Northcote and the Leaders generally,
went the other. Business done.—Much with the Seats Bill.

Wednesday.—Great sensation to-day. Discussing schedules on
Seats Bill. Scotch Members proposing all kinds of rearrangements
of boundaries—omitting bits here, taking bits off there, grouping
and regrouping. Sir Geo. Campbell proposes that Dumfries shall
be united with the Hawick Boroughs. Scotch Members sit fuming
in amazement. “Is the mon daft?” asks Ramsay, “Why,
Hawick’s miles from Dumfries.”

When excitement reached dangerous pitch and open revolt
threatened, Sir George blushingly explains he’d been making a
joke designed to reduce to absurdity arguments of Lord Advocate.
Anger of Scotch Members stronger than ever.

“ If Camel’s going to make jokes,” says Ramsay, bristling with
rage, “ he must give notice in the proper way, and let it appear on
the paper. Then we ’ll know.”

This sort of thing seems infectious.

“Do you know what is the new Munroe Doctrine, Toby?” Camp-
bell-Bannerman asked just now.

1 Remote, unfriended, solitary,
slow,”—or, Little “ Tom All-
alone ” in the Lobby.