A new sport has been invented by Colonel Guinness.  It consists in sending two telegrams simultaneously to Paris, one via London and the other via New York, and seeing which gets there first.  At present New York wins by twenty minutes.  Mr. Illingworth excused himself from giving an immediate explanation on the ground that he had not had time to check the facts.  No doubt he hopes that in the interim other Members will follow Colonel Guinness’s example and, by joining in the new pastime, bring grist to the Post-Office mill.

Wednesday, July 14th.—­Lord Milner must have thought he was back in the era of “Chinese Slavery” when he found himself assailed on all sides because the Chief Native Commissioner in Kenya Colony (late British East Africa) had issued a circular instructing the chiefs to influence their followers in the direction of honest toil.  Lord Islington described this as “perilously near forced labour;” His Grace of Canterbury facetiously suggested that the chiefs’ idea of influence would be the sjambok; and Lord Emmott talked of “Prussianism.”

Taught by past experience Lord Milner did not make light of the accusations, but set himself to show how little real substance they contained.  The Chief Native Commissioner was “not a Prussian”; on the contrary the local white population thought him too great an upholder of native privileges.  But he was very keen on getting the black man to work, and had therefore issued this circular, which was open to misinterpretation.  An explanatory document would be issued shortly.

Echoes of the Dyer debate are still reverberating through the Commons, and Mr. Montagu was put through a searching cross-examination regarding his relations with Mr. Gandhi.  Apparently that gentleman has a very simple plan of campaign.  He agitates more and more dangerously until he is threatened with prosecution.  Then he says “Sorry!” and Mr. Montagu begs him off.  After a brief interval of quiescence he starts again.  Just now he is once more nearing the imaginary line that separates proper from impropa-Gandhism.

[Illustration:  B.C. 1920. Sir Alfred Mond. “What a topping idea!  They’ll never get a more suitable design from the Office of Works—­not if they wait 3840 Years.”]

The House was delighted to see Mr. Devlin and Mr. MacVeagh back in their places.  A little honest Irish obstruction would be a refreshing change after the feeble imitations of the Kenworthies and Wedgwoods.  But the Speaker could not accept the proposition that a speech delivered three weeks ago, in which an Irish official was alleged to have prophesied some dreadful things which as a matter of fact had not happened, could be regarded as “a definite matter of urgent public importance.”

It is unfortunate that the Prime Minister was unable to get back from Spa in order to assist in the final suppression of his famous land-duties.  Most of the speeches delivered were made up of excerpts from his old orations of ten years ago—­that almost prehistoric era known as the Limehouse Period—­and it would have been an object-lesson in political gymnastics to see him explaining himself away.