n average half an hour. Thus, no sooner has a reporter been at
his post for that time, than he leaves the house and rushes up to the
office to copy out his notes; this may take him an hour. He then
returns, and is ready to go on again when he is due. It would be utterly
impossible for one man to report a debate and then to copy out his notes,
and be in time for the paper of the next morning; consequently each paper
is compelled to have a body of nine or ten parliamentary reporters, and
these reporters, in order that they may all have an equal chance, vary
their turns every week. Thus the man who goes on one week at four, goes
the next at a later hour--and the reporter who is one week in the
Commons, perhaps the next has the honour of sitting in the House of
Lords. Otherwise the hard work might fall to a few, and the rest might
take it very easy indeed.

As we don't happen to be reporting, we will look about us a little. We
will report reporters as they are: on our left, just below us, is the
reporter for the _Star_; next comes the _Daily Telegraph_, then the
_Advertiser_, and then the _Daily News_. Three boxes are occupied by the
_Times_: one for the reporters, one for the summary writer, and one for
the manager of the _Times_ parliamentary staff. On the other side are
the _Chronicle_ reporter and summary writer, the _Herald_ ditto, and the
_Post_. Up to six o'clock in the evening the _Globe_, and the _Sun_, and
the _Express_ have each a parliamentary reporter present. The gallery is
under the care of Lord Charles Russell, Sergeant-at-Arms, who is sadly
put to it where to stow the gentlemen of the press, who have increased
far beyond the limits of the gallery. Behind the gallery are rooms in
which some reporters write out their notes; and so hot and inconvenient
are they, that his lordship has latterly acceded to the reporters a
committee room attached for such as need it. Behind the gallery also is
a refreshment room, and a policeman to keep out intruders. A few of the
weekly papers have reporters in on Thursday and Friday nights, and these
constitute the only habitues of the gallery. Of course the aspect of the
house is different to what it is when viewed from the Strangers' Gallery.
You miss the Speaker and his ornamental chair and majestic wig, but you
have a better view of the gangway and the bar--you see the
Sergeant-at-Arms, wearing a sword, seated on his easy chair--that chair
being made easy by the