but one red star--Tyrannicide," is sternly pulled up.
OLD MORALITY says he's never seen "the publication;" has asked friends
near him, and everyone says he has neither seen, heard, nor read of
it. "The House," says the SPEAKER, by way of crushing ignominy, "has
no control over the poet SWINBURNE."

[Illustration: W.H. SMITH AS "THE ROVER OF THE SEAS."

"ONCE MORE ON BOARD THE LUGGER, AND I AM FREE!"]

So House deprived of its anticipated lark; all the while HANBURY,
with hands in pockets, sits staring gloomily forth, rather pitying
than resentful. House of course does not know what is in store
for it; still this trifling at the very moment when, though all
inconspicuously, the Commons have been saved from contumelious
outrage, racks the soul that carries with it the momentous secret.

At last HANBURY'S opportunity comes! Rises slowly, solemnly, to
full height; in deep base tones, asks permission to make personal
statement. House instantly alert, and attentive; baulked of its fun
with PATRICK, here is promise of fresh larks. HANBURY, his profound
base notes sometimes trembling with emotion, proceeds to unfold his
story; reads long letter from Dartmouth; Members, discovering that
the portentous business relates to some trumpery correspondence in the
newspapers, begin to cough, shuffle their feet, and even cry "Agreed!"
HANBURY stops aghast. Can it be possible? When he has been vindicating
privileges of Commons, can Members thus lightly treat incident? But
he will read them another letter, one he wrote to Lord DARTMOUTH.
Anguished roar burst forth from House; louder cries of "Agreed!
Agreed!" HANBURY, gasping for breath, looks round from side to side.
They cannot understand; will read them another letter; begins; storm
increases; HANBURY persists. Surely House will be delighted to hear
his final rejoinder to DARTMOUTH? On the contrary, House will have no
more; and HANBURY, pained and panting, resumes his seat, and business
goes forward as if he had not interposed.

_Business done._--A sudden rush. All contentious Bills through final
stage.

_Saturday_.--Session suddenly collapsed. "Like over-ripe tree,"
says Prince ARTHUR, dropping into poetry, "the fruit has fallen in a
night." Benches nearly empty; Votes passing in basketsful; prorogue
next week; to-day, practically, last working time. OLD MORALITY just
come in, in serge suit; left his straw hat in his room; off shortly
on cruise in _Pandora_; already shipped stor