r from the C.-in-C. of the Irish Republican
Army to his Chief of Staff discussing the possibility of enlisting the
germs of typhoid and glanders in their noble fight for freedom. The
House listened with rapt attention until Sir HAMAR came to the pious
conclusion, "God bless you all." Amid the laughter that followed this
anti-climax Mr. DEVLIN was heard to ask, "Was not the whole thing
concocted in Dublin Castle?" Well, if so, Dublin Castle must have
developed a sense of humour quite foreign to its traditions. Perhaps
that is the reason why the PRIME MINISTER, earlier in the Sitting,
expressed the opinion that "things in Ireland are getting much better."

* * * * *

THE BOOT MYSTERY.

DRAMATIC SCENES AT BILBURY QUARTER SESSIONS.

COUNSEL FOR PROSECUTION ARRIVES FROM LONDON.

THE PROCEEDINGS.

NOTES ON THE LEADING PERSONALITIES IN THE GREAT DRAMA.

PRISONER ADKINS' AWKWARD ADMISSION.

[Note.--The author is surprised, not to say pained, at the conspiracy
of silence on the part of the daily Press, as a result of which he is
left to write this matter up himself. However ...]

A sombre court-house of Quarter Sessions, the light with difficulty
penetrating the dusty panes of the windows. On the so-called Bench
sits the Bench so-called; in point of fact there are half-a-dozen ripe
aldermen sitting on chairs, in the midst of which is an arm-chair, and
in it Mr. Augustus Jones, the Recorder of Bilbury.

Born in 1873 of rich but respectable parents; called, with no uncertain
voice, to the Bar in 1894; of a weighty corpulence and stormy visage,
Mr. Jones now settles himself in his arm-chair to hear and determine
all this business about Absalom Adkins and the Boots. How admirably
impressive is Mr. Jones's typically English absence of hysteria, his
calm, his restfulness. Indeed, give Mr. Jones five minutes to himself
and it is even betting he would be fast asleep.

The Clerk of the Court with awful dignity suggests getting a move on.
Mr. Blaythwayte{original had "Blathwayte"} who, as well as Clerk of the
Court is also Town Clerk of Bilbury, was born in 1850 and, having
survived the intervening years, now demands the production of the
prisoner from below. Looking at this dignitary one gets the poetic
impression of a mass of white hair, white moustache, white whiskers,
white beard and white wig, with little bits of bright red face appearing
in between. From a crevice in one of these pat