felt safe in asserting that a Guy who, like himself, was compelled to
represent their glorious Predecessor in an old tail coat, a pair of
baggy tweed trousers, and a pot hat with a hole through the crown,
did so under a cruel disadvantage. He had heard that, in former times,
every Guy was sent out provided, as a matter of course, with a dark
lantern and a box of matches. Who ever saw a Guy so equipped nowadays?
They had been robbed of the very implements of their trade by the
grasping greed of their so-called superiors. (_Shame!_) In his opinion
every Guy had a right to be furnished with the correct costume of
the period--whatever that might be--at the public expense. (_Loud
cheers._)

A Guy in a Cocked Hat said he did not think the previous speaker had
mentioned the real cause of their fallen fortunes--their _clothes_
were right enough; they had to thank their own shortsighted policy for
their present position--yes, he was there to speak plainly, as Guy
to Guy, and he told them that it was nothing short of social suicide
for a Guy to carry about a placard, such as he saw too many of them
wearing that evening, inscribed with the name of a recent murderer
or some other popular but ephemeral favourite. (_Some murmuring._)
_That_ was not the way to preserve the name and fame of their revered
Chief. No; let every Guy be true to himself and his order, let him
indignantly refuse to sully his descent by such vulgar and unworthy
devices, and then--(_Uproar, amidst which the Speaker was compelled to
resume his seat._)

A Guy in a Blue Mask, who carried a placard bearing the name of
the Ex-Premier, described the remarks of both his brother Guys as
pestilent drivel. It was not clothes that made the Guy. A Guy was a
Guy in any guise! (_Loud cheers._) But no Guy ever rose in the world