DISCRETION.DISCRETION."And here's an extra Sixpence for you, Cabman—to get yourself someTea, you know!""Yes, Ma'am! Thank yer, Ma'am! I s'pose I may choose my ownGrocer, Ma'am?"
"And here's an extra Sixpence for you, Cabman—to get yourself someTea, you know!"
"Yes, Ma'am! Thank yer, Ma'am! I s'pose I may choose my ownGrocer, Ma'am?"
O pale Head-Waiter at "The Cock,"How changed for you and meIs this sad time! 'Tis five o'clock,Go, fetch a cup of tea;My pint of port is changed to that—WeakCowper'swashy liquor!Did tea make CellarerSimonfat,Or cheer Bray's jolly Vicar?No more libations to the Muse!Will cocoa make her kind?Will water whisper words to use?Will milk make up my mind,When writing melancholy rhymes,Of days not half forgotten,Before these daft teetotal timesWhen common-sense seems rotten?Head-Waiter, those good pints of portAre stopped for you and me,By legislation of the sortThey call grandmotherly;Two-thirds majority has saidThat alcohol would hurt you,And so you meekly bow your head,And practise painful virtue.We fret, we fume, we scoff, we sneer,And evil fate upbraid;Your care is for the ginger-beer,The milk, the lemonade.To come and go, and come againWith coffee that you keep hot,And watched by silent gentlemen,That trifle with the tea-pot.Live long, for water to the headWas never known to fly,Your flabby face will not grow red,Nor will your washy eye.Live long as you can bear these woes,Whilst bigots thus defy sense,Till watery Death's last Veto showsLife's quite suspended licence."Aquarius," when you shall ceaseTeetotal drinks to quaff,And end life's not repairing lease,Might be your epitaph.No carved cross-pipes, no pint-pot's wreath,Shall show you past to Heaven;But water-pipes, and, underneath,A milk-pot neatly graven.
O pale Head-Waiter at "The Cock,"How changed for you and meIs this sad time! 'Tis five o'clock,Go, fetch a cup of tea;My pint of port is changed to that—WeakCowper'swashy liquor!Did tea make CellarerSimonfat,Or cheer Bray's jolly Vicar?
O pale Head-Waiter at "The Cock,"
How changed for you and me
Is this sad time! 'Tis five o'clock,
Go, fetch a cup of tea;
My pint of port is changed to that—
WeakCowper'swashy liquor!
Did tea make CellarerSimonfat,
Or cheer Bray's jolly Vicar?
No more libations to the Muse!Will cocoa make her kind?Will water whisper words to use?Will milk make up my mind,When writing melancholy rhymes,Of days not half forgotten,Before these daft teetotal timesWhen common-sense seems rotten?
No more libations to the Muse!
Will cocoa make her kind?
Will water whisper words to use?
Will milk make up my mind,
When writing melancholy rhymes,
Of days not half forgotten,
Before these daft teetotal times
When common-sense seems rotten?
Head-Waiter, those good pints of portAre stopped for you and me,By legislation of the sortThey call grandmotherly;Two-thirds majority has saidThat alcohol would hurt you,And so you meekly bow your head,And practise painful virtue.
Head-Waiter, those good pints of port
Are stopped for you and me,
By legislation of the sort
They call grandmotherly;
Two-thirds majority has said
That alcohol would hurt you,
And so you meekly bow your head,
And practise painful virtue.
We fret, we fume, we scoff, we sneer,And evil fate upbraid;Your care is for the ginger-beer,The milk, the lemonade.To come and go, and come againWith coffee that you keep hot,And watched by silent gentlemen,That trifle with the tea-pot.
We fret, we fume, we scoff, we sneer,
And evil fate upbraid;
Your care is for the ginger-beer,
The milk, the lemonade.
To come and go, and come again
With coffee that you keep hot,
And watched by silent gentlemen,
That trifle with the tea-pot.
Live long, for water to the headWas never known to fly,Your flabby face will not grow red,Nor will your washy eye.Live long as you can bear these woes,Whilst bigots thus defy sense,Till watery Death's last Veto showsLife's quite suspended licence.
Live long, for water to the head
Was never known to fly,
Your flabby face will not grow red,
Nor will your washy eye.
Live long as you can bear these woes,
Whilst bigots thus defy sense,
Till watery Death's last Veto shows
Life's quite suspended licence.
"Aquarius," when you shall ceaseTeetotal drinks to quaff,And end life's not repairing lease,Might be your epitaph.No carved cross-pipes, no pint-pot's wreath,Shall show you past to Heaven;But water-pipes, and, underneath,A milk-pot neatly graven.
"Aquarius," when you shall cease
Teetotal drinks to quaff,
And end life's not repairing lease,
Might be your epitaph.
No carved cross-pipes, no pint-pot's wreath,
Shall show you past to Heaven;
But water-pipes, and, underneath,
A milk-pot neatly graven.
House of Commons, Monday Night, March 13.—No use disguising fact that when House discoveredFrederick Milnerstanding behind Front Opposition Bench, brandishing heavy boot in his hand as he addressedAsquith, it held its breath. Political passion runs pretty high of late; Opposition stirred to deepest depths by persistence of Government in attempting to read Home-Rule Bill Second Time before Easter. There have been sittings after midnight; sittings through Saturday; hot words bandied about; preparation for deadly duel in lobby. No one can say whither men may be led when once they permit angry passions to rise.Charles Russell, whose acquaintance with criminal classes is extensive, tells me it is by no means uncommon thing for prisoner in dock to take off boot and hurl it at head of presiding Magistrate or Judge.
"Usually an old woman who does it," he added.
"But this is SirFrederick Milner, Bart.," I said.
"Um!" saidRussell, with odd significance in the observation.
Turns out the apprehension groundless.Milneronly wants to know why Police at Leeds and Bradford should enjoy ultimate resources of civilisation in respect of "Scaith'ssilent boots," whilst London Policemen not so privileged?Milnertells me his earliest idea was to get a pair of the boots, put 'em on, and surpriseSpeakerby approaching with noiseless tread from behind Chair, lean over his shoulder, and suddenly say, "Boo!" That,Milnerthought, would be conclusive proof of the efficacy of the boots as making the tread inaudible. On other hand,Speakermightn't like it. So, by way of compromise, brought down odd boot in tail-pocket of his coat, and shook it atHome Secretarywhen he put question.
Asquithbehaved very well under trying circumstances. Did not visibly blench; answered, in off-hand manner, that London Police had had opportunity of substituting the silent boot for those in ordinary use, and had not availed themselves of it. Some had objected on domestic grounds. Female friends engaged in responsible posts in certain households on their beat were accustomed to the sound of their footfall on the pavement, and would not have things ready if they approached like rose-leaves flitting over shaven lawns. Others, assuming higher ground, resented silent boot as taking unfair advantage of the burglar or footpad. "Give a 'ardworking cove a fair chanst, that's my motter," one honest fellow in blue said toHome Secretarywhen Right Hon. Gentleman brought silent boot under his notice. No use attempting to run counter to feeling of this kind. Conclusion in whichDicky Templeheartily concurred.
"Silent boot," he said, "forced upon Metropolitan Police might play in history a part analogous to that of the greased cartridges on which we slipped into the Indian Mutiny."
Milnersaw it was evidently no use, so returning boot to coat-tail pocket, moodily regarded Treasury Bench.
'WANTING TO KNOW;' OR, THE BEWILDERED USHER."WANTING TO KNOW;" OR, THE BEWILDERED USHER.
But there were consolations.SquireofMalwood, asked by PrinceArthurwhat he now thought of prospects of reading Home-Rule Bill Second Time before Easter, admitted impossibility; triumphant shout from Opposition. Not in vain had they sat through morning sitting on Friday discussing the hour at which they should adjourn on Saturday. Not without recompense had they taken care that when Saturday came it shouldsee accomplished the minimum of business. Tussling with Mr. G. ever since Session opened; in first rounds he came off best; drew first blood; seemed likely to carry everything with him; Opposition pulled themselves together; went at it hammer and tongs; and now it is Mr. G. who has retired to corner; the sponge is in requisition on the Treasury Bench; the air around it redolent of the perfume of the indispensable vinegar.
"Guinness will go up a point or two on this," saidEllis Ashmead Bartlett, Knight, who has taken Irish securities under his wing. "Go down a pint or two, you mean," saidWilfrid Lawson, who is irreclaimable.
Business done.—Attack on JusticeMathewand Evicted Tenants' Commission repulsed by 287 Votes against 250.
Tuesday.—SquireofMalwooda changed man. No longer the light-hearted, sometimes almost frivolous youth who through six years sat on Front Opposition Bench, and girded at the Unionist Government. A Minister himself now; Mr. G.'s right-hand man; First Lieutenant of the Ship of State; acting Captain when, as happens just now, Mr. G. temporarily turned in. Once this afternoon something of old spirit stirred within him whenHoward Vincent(as he said) used the Stationary Vote as a peg on which to hang Protection heresies. But, for most part, he sits silent and self-communing, saying nothing, but, probably, like the parrot of old, thinking the more. In Conservative ranks feeling of profound respect growing in his favour. Curious to hear them say, "Ah! if everyone on Treasury Bench bore himself likeHarcourt, things would be different." Even the blamelessBryceis held up to contumely in contrast with mild-manneredMasterofMalwood. As forCharles Russell, after his speech last night, good Conservatives, following an Eastern custom, well enough in its place, spit when they mention his name. For them the model of all Parliamentary virtue is theSquireofMalwood.
Don't know how long this passion of appreciation will last; interesting to observe while yet with us. A lull all round in sympathy with soothing moments ofChancellorofExchequer. Even J. W.Lowther'sperturbed mind at rest. Knows now, to a fraction, how many lead-pencils are annually in use in directing destinies of British Empire. Rumour current that origin of this inquiry was a little undertaking promoted by Hon. Member in substitution of proscribed word-guessing competitions. Sweep got up; £5 entry; every man to guess at precise figure of lead-pencil census; the one coming nearest to clear the pool.Lowthertells me not word of truth in report. In putting his question as to number of lead-pencils in use, and in sticking to it in spite of jeers of bystanders and guilty reticence of Minister, he was actuated simply by motives of public policy; desired, in short, to live up to standard of late lamented Leader and do his duty to hisQueenand Country.
Business done.—Great lead-pencil question settled. Excited House Counted Out at 9.20.
'Back!! Rasch intruder!'"Back!! Rasch intruder!"
Thursday Night.—House dying to know what MajorFrederick Carne Raschhad to say on Navy Estimates. Not being Major of Marines, initial difficulty is to imagine what he did in this galley. If it had been the Army, or even the Militia, the Major would have seemed all right. But what had he to do with the Navy? That, however, is for the Major a minor point. "YouCarnebe tooRaschwhen attacking this Government," saidKenyon, with his pretty elliptical speech.
It was half-past ten, and a dull night. Navy Estimates been talked round for nearly five hours.SquireofMalwoodmeekly hoped that a Vote would now be taken;Dicky Templepresented himself at footlights with bewitching smile on his lips and elegantly bound gilt-edged volume under his arm; bowed to audience; opened volume; proceeding to offer few remarks whenSquireswooped down on him with Closure.
This was cue forRasch. Chairman rose to put question. So didRasch. Closure must not be debated; attempt to speak is unpardonable breach of order. The Major stood in the imminent deadly breach; House howled; Chairman cried, "Order! Order!"Raschglared round, and, after moment's hesitation, sat down; up again as soon as Question was put; howls more anguished than ever. Committee having agreed that Question be put, nothing to do but put it, and here wasRaschbubbling over with speech. Chairman on his feet peremptorily signalling Major to sit down; Members near him tugged at his coat-tails; those further off frantically wave deprecatory hands. Major stood to his guns; shouts of "Name! Name!" Chairman, desperately pegging away, succeeded in putting Question, being money-vote for Navy. Major by this time hauled down in his seat. Up again, like Jack out of box. Chairman also on his feet, putting next vote; hubbub tremendous; Major's lips observed in motion; not an articulate syllable rose above uproar.
On the Stroke of Twelve; or, Cinderella Balfour!On the Stroke of Twelve; or, Cinderella Balfour!
Meanwhile Chairman had dexterously put and run through supplementary vote for Excess of Expenditure; friends near him had got the catapultic Major down again, in time to hear Chairman declare "the Ayes have it!" Major up again. "Order! order!" shouted the Chairman. "Question: is——" Not quite clear amid uproar what question was; something to do with Army. Anyhow, there wasStanhopestanding at table discussing Army Votes. Major again on his feet, his moustache twitching with astonishment.Stanhopea peculiarly painful circumstance; all very well for good Conservative to gird against Government, and jostle Mr. G.'s Chairman of Committees; different (especially for a Major in the Militia) to struggle with Statesman who had been Secretary of State for War on his own side. So Major, defiantly glaring round House slowly dropped into his seat:—"dying with all his music in him," asJustin McCarthy, who knows the poets, said. But what was the tune he meditated? What is the secret of this unspoken speech?
Business done.—Money voted for Naval men. Halt cried on Army Vote.
Friday.—Raschbroken out again; turns up as usual at critical moment. Committee of Supply adjourned at ten minutes to seven; sharp at seven morning sitting must be suspended. Report of Supply under consideration; only tremulous ten minutes to get through it.Raschresolved, now or never, to finish the speech he commenced yesterday. House, after protest, settles down to listen. SeemsKay Shuttleworthbeen "saying things" about the warrior. "He behaved towards me," said the Major, "in a manner that would be brusque on the part of Providence addressing a black beetle." House undecided as to which simile more happily bestowed. On the whole, agreed more polite to contemplateU. Kay Shuttleworthas Providence, than MajorRaschas the other thing.
Business done.—Some Votes in Supply.
Missing or illegible/damaged punctuation has been repaired.