Wednesday, April 16th.—­A crowded House, the Peers’ Gallery full to overflowing, the HEIR-APPARENT over the Clock, and the new Editor of The Times among the representatives of the Press—­the PRIME MINISTER could have desired no better setting for his speech upon the labours of the Peace Conference.  His original intention was to hold his forces in reserve and invite his critics to “fire first,” but, as none of these gentlemen seemed to be particularly anxious to go “over the top,” Mr. LLOYD GEOEGE obligingly altered his battle-plan and himself delivered the opening fusillade.

That he was in no apologetic mood was shown in almost his first sentence.  His declaration that indemnities were a difficult problem, “not to be settled by telegram,” evoked resounding cheers.  Thenceforward he held the sympathy of the House, whether he was describing the difficulties of the Peace Conference, or reconciling the apparent inconsistencies of its Russian policy, or inveighing against the attempts of certain newspapers to sow dissension among the Allies.  “I would rather have a good Peace than a good Press” was one of his most telling phrases, and it was followed by a character-sketch of his principal newspaper-critic which in pungency left nothing to be desired.  “What a journalist I could have made of him!” the recluse of Fontainebleau will doubtless remark when he reads the passage.

The PRIME MINISTER’S object, I imagine, was less to impart information than to create an atmosphere; and he was so far successful that the House showed little inclination to listen to other speakers.  Nevertheless several of them devoted some hours to saying nothing in particular before the House mercifully adjourned for the Easter Recess.

* * * * *

“The Postmaster-General, in a written answer, states that arrangements are now in hand for the improvement, where circumstances permit, of postal services which have been curtained as a result of war conditions.”—­Scots Paper.

As for the telephone service, we can well believe that he would prefer the veil to be kept over that.

* * * * *

A GERMLESS EDEN.

  The antiseptic baby and the prophylactic pup
  Were playing in the garden when the bunny gambolled up;
  They looked upon the creature with a loathing undisguised,
  For he wasn’t disinfected and he wasn’t sterilized. 
  They said he was a microbe and a hotbed of disease;
  They steamed him in a vapour of a thousand odd degrees,
  They froze him in a freezer that was cold as banished hope,
  They washed him with permanganate and carbolated soap,