ers know. The mandarin language of
Peking is after all the mother-language of officialdom, the _madre
lingua_, less nervous and more precise than any other dialect and
invested with a certain air of authority which cannot be denied. The
sharp-sounding, high-pitched Southern voice, though it may argue very
acutely and rapidly, appears at an increasing disadvantage. There seems
to be a tendency inherent in it to become querulous, to make its
pleading sound specious because of over-much speech. These are curious
little things which have been not without influence in other regions of
the world.

The applause when it comes proves the same thing as applause does
everywhere; that if you want to drive home your points in a large
assembly you must be condensed and simple, using broad, slashing
arguments. This is precisely what distinguishes melodrama from drama,
and which explains why excessive analysis is no argument in the popular
mind. Generally, however, there is not much applause and the voice of
the speaker wanders through the hall uninterrupted by signs of content
or discontent. Sometimes, although rather rarely, there is a gust of
laughter as a point is scored against a hated rival. But it dies away as
suddenly as it arose--almost before you have noted it, as if it were
superfluous and must make room for more serious things.

With the closing of a debate there is the vote. An electric bell rings
again, and with a rough hand the House police close all the exits. The
clerks come down into the aisles. They seem to move listlessly and
indifferently; yet very quickly they have checked the membership to
insure that the excessively large quorum requisite is present. Now the
Speaker calls for the vote. Massively and stiffly, as at a word of
command the "ayes" rise in their seats. There is a round of applause;
the bill has been carried almost unanimously. That, however, is not
always so. When there is an obstreperous mood abroad, the House will
decline to proceed with the agenda, and a dozen men will rise at a time
and speak from behind their desks, trying to talk each other down. The
Speaker stands patiently wrestling with the problem of procedure--and
often failing since practice is still in process of being formed. Years
must elapse before absolutely hard-and-fast rules are established. Still
the progress already made since August, 1916, is remarkable, and
something is being learned every day. The business of a Parliament is