yerself? He's 'oldin' a
small open-air meetin' in Kipper's Court this evenin', ar-past eight
percisely. You come and bring yer 'usban', and I'll guarantee you
git a good place close to the cheer. I'll interdooce yer to him
arterwards, and he'll answer any questions yer like to arsk him--fair
_and_ straight!

_Lady N._ (_feebly_). Thank you very much; but--but we are
unfortunately dining out this evening, so I'm _afraid_--

_Mr. G._ (_more in sorrow than in anger_). There it _is_, yer see. Yer
afraid. Afraid o' 'earing the truth. Carn't trust yerself to listen to
both sides. But I don't despair of yer yet. See 'ere; is it 'Ome Rule
that separates us? 'Cos, if so, it needn't. QUELCH don't care no more
for 'Ome Rule than that 'ere penwiper do, between you and me! On'y,
yer see, he carn't _say_ so at present, d'yer ketch my meanin'? (Lady
N. _rings the bell in despair_.) Oh, thankee, Mum, if you _are_
so kind, I'll take whatever yer goin' to 'ave yerself, _I_ ain't
partickler.

[Illustration: NEW FACES IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.

(_According to the Portraits that have appeared in the Illustrated
Papers._)]

_Lady N._ (_as the Butler appears_). CLARKSON, show this--this
gentleman the way out.

_Mr. G._ Don't you trouble, old pal, I can find it for myself. (_To_
Lady N.) I b'lieve, if the truth was known, you're comin' round
already, Mum. I'll tell yer what I'll do. I'll leave some o' these
'ere little pamphlicks, as you might git your good man to run his eye
over. "_Why_ I am a Radikil," "The Infamy of Tory Gov'ment," "'Ow we
are Robbed!" &c. And 'ere's a picter-poster--"The 'Orrers of Coercion
under the Brutal BALFOUR!" Yer might put it up in yer front winder--it
don't _commit_ yer to nothing, yer know!--it'll amuse the kids, if
you've any family.

_Clarkson_ (_in his ear_). Will you walk downstairs quietly, or shall
I have to pitch you?

_Mr. G._ (_roused at last_). What, I'm to cop the push, am I? An'
what _for_, eh? What 'ave I done more than you swells ha' bin doin'
ever since the Elections started? (_To_ Lady N.) You come pokin' into
_our_ 'ouses, without waitin' to be invited, arskin' questions and
soft-sawderin', and leavin' tracks and coloured picters--and we put
up with it all. But as soon as one of _us_ tries it on, what do yer
do?--ring for the Chucker-out! Ah, and reason enough, too--yer know
yer'll get beaten on the argyments! (_Here he is gently but firmly
led out by_ CLARKSON, _and concludes his obs