[Illustration:  “Order!  Order!”]

Tuesday.—­Don’t know what we shall do when WIGGIN leaves us, as he threatens to do after Dissolution.  Not much here just now, but sometimes his face seen in House or Lobbies, piercing surrounding gloom like what SWIFT MACNEILL distantly alludes to as “the orb of day.”  Only WIGGIN could have thought of the little divertissement that for a few moments raised depressed spirits of House this afternoon.  Resumed at morning Sitting (so called because it takes place in the afternoon) discussion of Small Holdings Bill.  SEALE-HAYNE,—­whose reputation as a humorist still lingers a tradition in the playing fields at Eton, but whose subsequent political career has subdued his vivacity,—­moved Amendment.  Something about compensation for cow-sheds.  COBB airily addressed the Committee; and CHAPLIN whispered a few confidential remarks across Table.

Curious how this “eminent authority,” as the MARKISS calls quite another personage, has lost his voice since Bill got into Committee.  Seems so awestruck by enormity of his responsibility, not inclined to raise his voice above whisper.  Effort to catch purport of his remarks completed depression under which Committee sinking.  Went out to vote as if they were conducting CHAPLIN to a too early funeral.  Then it was that an idea dawned on the mind of the wanton WIGGIN.

“I’ll show ’em sport, TOBY, dear boy,” he said to me in passing. “I’ll give their spirits a leg up!”

Forgotten about this in passing through Division Lobby; coming back startled by angry roar.  COURTNEY on his feet solemnly shouting “Order, Order!” like minute-gun at sea.  Nothing came of this; excitement increased; COURTNEY crying “Order, Order!” in sterner voice.  Looked about for explanation, and lo! there was the waggish WIGGIN with his hat cocked well on one side of his head, waddling down the floor of the House past the Chair.  You may do almost anything in the House of Commons but walk about with your hat on, and here was WIGGIN, not only doing it, but persisting in the offence, smiling back innocently on the increasing circle of Members roaring at him, and COURTNEY, with increasing stridency, shouting “Order!” behind his back.  Having got nearly to the Bar, the wily WIGGIN, affecting to wonder what all the row was about, turned round and found himself pierced through and through with the flaming eye of outraged Chairman.  Pretty to see how, all of a sudden, it seemed to flash upon him that he was the culprit, and that it was his hat at which Members, like so many WILLIAM TELLS, were persistently tiring.  The sunset face flushed deeper still; with quick movement the wayward WIGGIN removed his offending hat, and, bowing apologetically to the Chair, went forth with quickened pace.

[Illustration:  “No Forwooder!”]

Excellently done; took in the whole House, including Chairman.  But WIGGIN’s benevolent intention secured, and, if only temporarily, spirits of House jubilantly rose. Business done.—­In Committee on Small Holdings.