Through nearly hour and half the Squire mourned and jibed, Prince ARTHUR listening attentively, all unconscious of the Shades hovering about the historic seat in which he lounged, as nearly as possible, at full length—­OLD MORALITY, kindly generous, pleased in another’s prosperity; STAFFORD NORTHCOTE, marvelling at the madness of a world he has not been loth to quit; DIZZY tickled with the whole situation, though perhaps a little shocked to see a Leader of the House resting apparently on his shoulder-blades in the seat where from 1874 to 1876 there posed an upright statuesque figure with folded arms and mask-like face, lit up now and then by the gleam of eyes that saw everything whilst they seemed to be looking no whither.  PAM was there, too, with slightly raised eyebrows as they fell on the youthful form already installed in a place he had not reached till he was almost twice the age of the newcomer.  JOHNNY RUSSELL, scowled at the intruder under a hat a-size-and-half too big for his legs.  CANNING looked on, and thought of his brief tenure of the same place whilst the century was young.  Still further in the shade PITT joined the group. [Illustration:  “THE COMING OF ARTHUR.”

Shade of Pam.  “H’M!  A LITTLE YOUNG FOR THE PART,—­DON’T YOU THINK?”

Shade of Dizzy.  “WELL, YES! WE HAD TO WAIT FOR IT A GOOD MANY YEARS!—­BUT I THINK HE’LL DO!!”]

“Well at least he was even younger when he came to our place,” PAM whispered in DIZZY’s ear, startling him as he inadvertently touched his cheek with the straw he still seems to hold in his teeth, as he did when JOHN LEECH was alive.

Prince ARTHUR, facing the crowded Opposition Benches, of course saw nothing of this; lounged and listened smilingly as the Squire, having shaken up JOKIM and his one-pound notes, went oft to Exeter to pummel the MARKISS.

Business done.—­Address moved.

Wednesday.—­Evidently going to be an Agricultural Labourer’s Session.  Small Holdings Bill put in forefront of Programme.  District Councils hinted at.  In this situation it was stroke of genius, due I believe to the MARKISS, that such happy selection was made of Mover of Address.

“It’s trifles that make up the mass, my dear nephew,” the MARKISS said, when this matter was being discussed in the Recess.  “No detail is so small that we can afford to omit it.  It was a happy thought of yours, perhaps a little too subtle for some intellects, to associate CHAPLIN with Small Holdings.  In this other matter, let me have my way.  Put up HODGE to move the Address.  It will be worth 10,000 votes in the agricultural districts.  I suppose he wouldn’t like to come down in a smock frock with a whip in his hand?  Don’t know why he shouldn’t; quite as reasonable as a civilian getting himself up as a Colonel or an Admiral.  With HODGE in a smock frock moving the Address we’d sweep the country.  But that I must leave to you; only let us have HODGE.”