RIGHT HON. ARTHUR. "IF I CAN ONLY GET THIS THROUGH, IT OUGHT TO SETTLE
'EM!"]


There's one thing changed GRANDOLPH did not allude to; perhaps
unconscious of it. 'Tis his own appearance. In addition to the beard,
he has put on ruddy tint that speaks well for Mashonaland as a health
resort compared with Westminster. Amongst the pale-faced legislators
his visage shines like the morning sun. "Quite a Colonial look about
him," says ALGERNON BORTHWICK, fretfully. "But, after a few dinners at
the Amphitryon and a few nights at the House and elsewhere, he'll get
over it."

Members from all parts crowd round GRANDOLPH to shake the horny hand
of the intrepid explorer, the dauntless lion _dompter_. A cold air
whistles along the row of Ministers as he sits behind.

"What's he up to?" JOKIM hoarsely whispered, all his native gaiety
eclipsed.

"Come down, I suppose," said Prince ARTHUR, smiling, "to congratulate
us on our great victory last night, whereby we escaped defeat in
Debate on Address by triumphant majority of 21."

"Quite a stormy petrel don't you think?" JOKIM said, nervously rubbing
his hands.

"Not exactly," said Prince ARTHUR; "that usually comes before the
storm you know. If you must be personal and ornithological, I should
say GRANDOLPH's appearance on the scene is more reminiscent of the