here are not two men with surnames so similar and yet so
different in every other way than that great man of business, Sir
Christopher Furness, and myself. He has an eye for business, but not one
for his surname--I have an "I" in my name, and two for art only. When
Mr. Furness was first returned to Parliament, plain Mr., neither a
knight nor a millionaire, _then_ he asked to see me alone in one of the
Lobbies of the House of Commons. He held a note in his hand, _strangely_
and nervously,--so I knew at once it was not a bank-note.

"I--ah--am very sorry,--you are a stranger to me, I--a--stranger to the
House. This note from a stranger was handed to me by a strange
official. I read it before I noticed the mistake. It is addressed to
you."

"Oh, that is of no consequence, I assure you," I said.

"Oh, but it is--it must be of consequence. It is--of--such a private
nature, and so brief. I feel extremely awkward in having to acknowledge
I read it,--a pure accident, I assure you!"

He handed me the note and was running away, when I called him back. It
read:--

"Meet me under the clock at 8.

"LUCY."

"I must introduce you to Lucy."

"No, no! not for worlds,"

But I did. Here he is.

[Illustration]

There were more "scenes" in Parliament in the few sessions that I have
selected to write about in this volume than there were in the rest of
the last century put together. This was largely due to the climax of
Irish affairs in the House. For effect in debate the English and Scotch
Members,--not to speak of the Welsh Representatives,--are failures
compared with those Members from across the water. No matter how hard
the phlegmatic Englishman, the querulous Scotchman, or the whinings of
those from gallant little Wales may try for effect, they have to give
way to the Irish in the art of making a scene in the House.
Occasionally, as when Dr. Kenealy shook some pepper over the House, and
in the case of Mr. Plimsoll--or some other honourable gentleman--who
went so far as to hang his umbrella on the Mace, an English Member
causes a sensation which might almost excite a pang of envy in the
breast of Dr. Tanner or Mr. Healy. No Englishman, however, has exceeded
Mr. Bradlaugh in the persistent quality of sensationalism in Parliament,
which now is sadly in want of another political phenomenon to enliven
its proceedings.

One of the best studies in those days of good subje