h-West
Hammersmith Town Council, who found the work getting too much for them, and
that, anyhow, "he intends to take part in the procession." Awkward--but we
have to yield.

_In the Streets._--The 675 Mayors don't inspire as much respect as I should
like. Perhaps it is due to the fact that a regular scramble took place for
seats in the old LORD MAYOR'S Coach, in the course of which the Mayor of
Tottenham Court Road was badly pommeled by the Mayor of Battersea Rise, and
the coach itself had one side knocked out of it. Also that we other Mayors
have to follow on foot, and are repeatedly asked if we are a procession of
the Unemployed!

_At the Law Courts._--In the good old days Lord Chief Justice used to
deliver a flowery harangue congratulating the Chief Magistrate on his
elevation. But who _is_ the Chief Magistrate now? To-day a free fight among
the Mayors to get first into the Court. In consequence, Chief Justice
angrily orders Court to be cleared, and threatens to commit us for
contempt! Yet surely in former days a Judge would have been imprisoned in
the deepest dungeons of the Mansion House for much less.

_Evening._--The hospitable custom of the Ministerial banquet still
retained. Prime Minister adopts tactics of the Music Hall "Lion Comique,"
and, after addressing a few genial words to the guests assembled at the
table of the Mayor of West Ham, jumps into brougham, and appears a few
minutes later at Mayor of Shadwell's banquet, and so on to Poplar and
Whitechapel, and as many as he can crowd in. Other Ministers do the same.
Still, not enough Cabinet Councillors to go round, and to-night I am
horrified to find that the assistant Under-Secretary to the deputy Labour
Commissioner had been chosen to reply to the toast of the health of the
Ministry at _my_ banquet! Ichabod, indeed! [By the way, what a good name
for a new Lord Mayor, "Ichabod," say, if knighted, "Sir THOMAS ICHABOD."
Air to be played by band on his entering Guildhall, "Ichabody meet a body."
But alas! these are dreams! Ichabod!] Yet, as the only building in which
the Mayor of Cripplegate Without can entertain his guest is the fourth
floor of an unused warehouse, perhaps we really don't deserve a higher
official. Still, one can't help regretting that the City, in its natural
dread of the so-called "Unification of London," persuaded the Government to
agree to this sort of "Punification of London."

* * * * *

TOAST FOR TH