ND MORE CLEARLY WITH MY PUBLIC'S NOTION OF THE GODDESS IN
QUESTION."

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

(EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.)

_House of Commons, Monday, June 29._--Curious how the Labour Party, who
the other day, joining hands with the Conservatives, nearly threw the
Government out, lead the way in sartorial fashion. Since DON'T KEIR
HARDIE, home from the storied East, presented himself in a reach-me-down
suit of white drill such as is worn aboard ship in the Red Sea, nothing
has created such sensation as the dropping in this afternoon of Mr.
HODGE, arrayed in a summer suit. It was not, as some might have
expected, the simple garment of the elder branch of his honourable
family. No. It was not a smock such as FRANK LOCKWOOD pictured BOBBY
SPENCER wearing when he made his historic declaration, "I am not an
agricultural labourer." HODGE (Gorton Div., Lancs., Lab.), as _The
Times'_ parliamentary report has it, burst upon the attention of a
crowded House at Question-time got up in wondrous garment, white in the
foundation of colour, but relieved from the crude hardness of DON'T KEIR
HARDIE'S suit by what suggested dexterous process of patting and lightly
smearing with a mustard-spoon. A Trilby hat crowned and accentuated
this creation.

As the vision crossed the Bar Members sat silent, gazing upon it with
lips slightly parted. Similarly, upon a peak in Darien, stout CORTEZ
stared at the Pacific.

Silence was broken by a burst of hearty cheering, in which the keen ear
detected a slightly discordant note. Whilst Members were frankly
disposed to applaud the boldness of what I believe purveyors of new
models of female dress call the "confection," whilst they were lost in
admiration of its effect, there was a feeling of disappointment that
they had not thought of it themselves, and been the first to enter the
field.

Thanks to the genius of FRANK LOCKWOOD a former House was able to
realise the figure presented by the present. Earl SPENCER, whilst still
with us in the Commons, skipping along in the purity of a Monday morning
smock, carrying in his right hand a garlanded pitchfork. What the
present House, jaded with a succession of Budgets and the persistence of
the Ulster question, would like to see is the entrance of those twin
brethren, Lord CASTLEREAGH and Earl WINTERTON, walking arm-in-arm,
arrayed in garb approaching as nearly as possible that which, thanks to
Mr.