arly a
quarter of a century in the Press Gallery of the House, and
who, in addition to much other successful journalistic work,
has, in the character of "Toby, M.P.," supplied to our
distinguished contemporary, "Punch" some of its most amusing
sketches. "From Behind the Speaker's Chair" will be continued,
and will, we believe, be looked forward to by our readers,
month by month, with constant interest._--EDITOR.]

[Illustration]

Eheu fugaces! It is just twenty years, marked by the opening Session,
since I first had the opportunity of viewing the House of Commons from a
coign of 'vantage behind the Speaker's Chair. It is more than twenty
years since I looked on the place with opportunity for closely studying
it. But, as I am reminded by an inscription in an old rare copy of
"Dod," it was in February, 1873, that I was installed in the Press
Gallery in charge of the Parliamentary business of a great daily paper.

I first saw the House in circumstances that might well have led me to
the Clock Tower. It was in the spring of 1869. I was passing through
London, on my way to Paris, where I had proposed to myself to live for a
year, master the language, and proceed thence to other capitals of
Europe, learn their tongues, and return to storm the journalistic
citadel in London, armed with polyglot accomplishments. Even then I had
a strong drawing towards the House of Commons, but desired to see it,
not as the ordinary stranger beheld it from the gallery facing the
Chair, but from the Press Gallery itself.

In those days the adventure was far more difficult than in existing
circumstances. The country Press was not represented save vicariously in
the form of a rare London correspondent, who wrote a weekly letter for
some phenomenally enterprising county paper. The aggregate of the London
staffs was far smaller than at present, and was, it struck me at the
time, composed almost exclusively of elderly gentlemen. The chances of
detection of an unauthorized stranger (being, moreover, a beardless
youth) were accordingly increased. But I was determined to see the House
from behind the Speaker's Chair, and was happy in the possession of a
friend as reckless as myself. He was on the staff of a morning journal,
and, though not a gallery man, knew most of the confraternity.

One night he took me down to the gallery and endeavoured to induce more
than one of the old stagers to pilot me in. They stared