Punch: Punch (83.1882)

16

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHAJUVARI.

[July 15, 1882,

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

• EXTRACTED FROM

THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

FUTURE ARRANGEMENTS OF THE HOUSE FOR A WEEK’S CONTINUOUS SITTING.—SNUG BERTHS FOR SEVERAL MEMBERS.

Monday Night, July 3.—Great State Trial. Mr. O’Donnell
been saying bad words to the Chairman of Committees. House met
to-night to consider his conduct. Rather a godsend this, as we’ve
nothing else to do. Ireland settled. No eruptions in Egypt. General
business well advanced ; and really, but for O’Donnell, might shut
up House. As it is, House crowded..

Prisoner refuses to plead. House taken aback. Not expected
affairs would take this particular turn. Usual thing for Irish
Members is to outrage all the decencies of debate, and then to
“ withdraw,” sometimes, if in gracious mood, to express regret;
whereupon tears of joy fill the eyes of the majority, penitent sinner
is embraced, and on the whole finds the proceedings so agreeable,
and personaUy profitable, that he seeks earliest opportunity of
repeating them.

Mr. O’Donnell on new tack: won’t plead. Mr. Warton well
up in ancient precedents, suggests the
press—not the Morning Post, but a
few hundred-weights of iron such as
they used in good old times to lay
upon chests of prisoners who refused
to plead. (Hence the phrase “ the
Iron Chest.”)

Newdegate very doubtful. “ The
only press laws,” he says, “not too
antique for the House of Commons,
are those still kept on the books
with reference to newspapers.”

Only thing to be done with O’Don-
nell was to pass sentence, and this
Mr. Gladstone, as resident Magis-
trate, proceeded to do.

“ Fourteen days,” says he, “ with-
out option of a fine.”

“Can do it on my ’ead,” says
O’Donnell, not precisely in those
words, but in that polysyllabic form
in which he is accustomed to rival
the Premier himself. Some indica-
tions on the part of the prisoner of
intention to throw his boot at head of
Magistrate ; but having before him
the prospect of presently walking out,
thought better of it.

“ If this goes on long, there ’ll be
room enough in the House to sit down
comfortably,” says Mr. Leahy, sur-
reptitiously edging Mr. Biggar an inch higher up, and mopping his
head with his handkerchief. “ If they’d only put out Byrne, life
would begin to be tolerable.” And he eyed the great girth of
his compatriot with sorrowful look.

“ If they’d only put out Leahy,” Mr. Byrne muttered to him-
self, looking wistfully at the broad acres of his countryman’s back,

Mr. O’Donnell gets Fourteen
Days, and is banished to the
Sandwich Islands for using
decidedly unparliamentary lan-
guage, and suggesting that the
Chairman of Committees’ name
ought to be Dr. Ly-an’ Rlay-
un-fair.

“ what a convenience it would be ! ” Business done.—O’Donnell
got fourteen days. Urgency Resolution revived.

Tuesday Night.—News floating about before Morning Sitting of
intended demonstration in Palace Yard. It was said procession
would appear at the gates and claim privilege of admission. Proces-
sion would consist of two, Mr. O'Donnell In the van, and Mr.
Bradlaugh in the rear. Some trepidation in official circles. On
dit, the building is literally undermined by Police, ready to spring
out at a moment’s notice. Seems a little overdone, but, as Inspector
Denning says, you never know what these things will lead to.
There would be no harm in Mr. O’Donnell walking up and down
Palace Yard between sandwich boards with “Fourteen Days” on
them, whilst Mr. Bradlaugh follows step by step with another board
bearing the legend “ For Life.” But who can say where these things
will stop ? Always well to be on the safe side.

Inside, House crowded. Majority happy, for deliverance is at
hand. Urgency Resolution revived by 402 against 18. Then up and
speaks Justin M'Oarthy, who declares that the high-minded
Gentlemen with whom he so curiously finds himself in company, can
take no further part in proceedings of an assembly marked by sub-
terfuge and violence. McCarthy vanished Justin time to escape
thunderbolt held in hand of Jove in the Chair. Having shot his dart,
he walked out, followed in single file by fourteen Members. The
reckless House, instead of being overawed, laughed consumedly.

“ Getting a little monotonous though, isn’t it ? ” Harcourt said,
with a capacious yawn. “ They ’re always shaking the dust of the
House of Commons from their feet, but I observe they never do it
till further chance of kicking it up is cut off from them.”

Presently J oseph Gillis strolled back. He had marched out with
the rest, and honestly meant to go; but, when he had seen them off
the premises, returned by circuitous road, and, entering from under
the Gallery, was in his seat before he was noticed.

“We’ve walked out,” Joey B. said, when expostulated with,
“and that’s all right. We’ve got the benefit of the stroke. Now I
come back and oppose the Bill, so you see we get double advantage.”

Joey B., as has been remarked before, is sly, dev’lish sly.

Business done.—Urgency granted. Deliverance of four hundred
Members from the yoke of twenty.

Thursday.—Mr. Healy gave notice to-night that next time it
is necessary to find a substitute for Lyon Playfair in the Chair of
Committees, he will move that Joseph Gillis takes it. House receives
the suggestion with uproarious delight. The mind’s eye revels in
the picture of Joey B. in the Chair, warning Mr. Forster, and
ruling Home Secretary’s amendment out of order. Joseph, with
that modesty that always accompanies real capacity, rather shrinks
from the honour proposed to be thrust upon him.

“ I know a little about the rules,” he says, “and I’m thorrowly
up in foreign languages, including Latin and French, which, I may
say, I know verbattim. But there’s a few of them English words a
syllable or so too much for me.” This diffidence wiU doubtless be
overcome. J. G. is not a man to shirk duty when thrust upon him.