yet learned to accommodate himself to the sombre garments of an
unpicturesque age. The dutiful Austen left himself without a seat, and
was content to kneel in the gangway, and there take sweet counsel from
his parent.

[Sidenote: Enter the G.O.M.]

Mr. Gladstone, as everybody knows, was not technically a member of the
House of Commons when it met at the beginning of the Session. He had to
be sworn, and the first business of the House was to witness this
ceremony. I remember the first day I was a member of the House, and saw
a similar spectacle--it was in 1880. Then the House was crowded, and
there was a tremendous demonstration; but on the opening day of the
Session just ended, the ceremony came off a little earlier than had been
expected, and the House was not as full as one would have anticipated.
Then there was a great deal of work to be done; every section of the
House was busy with the attempt to get an opportunity of bringing in
Bills. The Irishmen are always to the front on these occasions, with the
list of a dozen Bills, which they seek to bring forward on
Wednesdays--the day that is still sacred to the private member anxious
to legislate. The Welsh members have now taken up the same lesson; the
London members are likewise on the alert. Now, in order to get a chance
of bringing in a Bill, it is necessary to ballot--then it is first come,
first served. To get your chance in the ballot, you must put your name
down on what is called the notice paper, where a number is placed
opposite your name. The clerks put into the balloting-box as many
numbers as there are names on the notice paper--they approached 400 on
the day in question--and then the number is drawn out, and the Speaker
calls upon the member whose number has proved to be the lucky one. A
whole crowd of members were standing waiting their turn to do this the