The new Minister of Labour (late of the Admiralty) came on board again, looking none the worse for his strenuous exertions at Camberwell.  He had a hearty welcome from all quarters of the House, which would hardly know itself without its “Dr. MAC.”

It is one thing to gain a seat in the House, but quite another thing to keep it, as Sir W. JOYNSON-HICKS has just discovered.  Returning from a prolonged tour in foreign parts he found that his favourite corner-seat had been annexed by another Member.  Determined to reclaim it, he visited the House at 8 A.M. and inserted his card; but on coming back to the House for prayers found that the usurper had substituted her own.  Mr. T.P.  O’CONNOR, with old-world chivalry, considered that the only lady-Member should be allowed to sit where she pleased; but the SPEAKER upheld the principle “first come, first served.”

On a Vote of twenty-seven millions for the expenses of the Ministry of Munitions Mr. HOPE told a flattering tale.  The Department might be spending a lot of money, but it was making a great deal more; and he anticipated that the Disposals Board would hand over to the Exchequer this year something like a hundred millions, if not more.  The Slough Depot, he maintained, had been run at a profit and sold at a profit.  The Ministry might have made some mistakes, but it represented a prodigious national effort, of which the historian would speak with amazement and praise.

Unimpressed by this panegyric Sir DONALD MACLEAN intimated that he came to bury the Ministry and not to praise it.  In his view its administration had been grossly extravagant.  He demanded the full details of the Slough transaction and suggested that the Vote should be withdrawn until they were forthcoming.  To this proposal Mr. HOPE, with more humility than I should have expected after the optimism of his earlier speech, ultimately agreed.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Our Animal Artist. “THOSE CHICKENS I BOUGHT OFF YOU ARE NO GOOD TO ME.”

Farmer. “NO GOOD, SIR?  WHAT’S WRONG WI’ ’EM?”

Our Animal Artist. “THEY’VE GOT NO EXPRESSION.”]

* * * * *

THE LAND OF LOGIC.

Let me tell you about my Nationalist friend, Gabal Osman Effendi.

The circumstances of his brother’s death, which were as follows, drove him into politics and made him a fervent advocate of “Egypt for the Egyptians.”

His brother was in a very humble way and lived in a little mud village.  There he had a friend, yet poorer than himself, who only attained to prosperity when a plague fell on the village.  The sanitary authorities put a cordon around it to prevent the spread of the plague, and hired this man among others to throw disinfectants and things into any drains that happened to exist.  Thus Osman Effendi’s brother’s friend became a Government servant.