usually quite a good haul. There were dozens of these "Jacks-in-
the-green" to be seen then on Mayday in the London streets, each
one with his attendant band of little black familiars. I summoned
up enough courage once to ask a small inky-black urchin whether he
had disobeyed his nurse very often in order to be condemned to
sweep chimneys. He gaped at me uncomprehendingly, with a grin; but
being a cheerful little soul, assured me that, on the whole, he
rather enjoyed climbing up chimneys.

It was my father and mother's custom in London to receive any of
their friends at luncheon without a formal invitation, and a
constant procession of people availed themselves of this
privilege. At six years of age I was promoted to lunch in the
dining-room with my parents, and I always kept my ears open. I had
then one brother in the House of Commons, and we being a
politically inclined family, most of the notabilities of the Tory
party put in occasional appearances at Chesterfield House at
luncheon-time. There was Mr. Disraeli, for whom my father had an
immense admiration, although he had not yet occupied the post of
Prime Minister. Mr. Disraeli's curiously impassive face, with its
entire absence of colouring, rather frightened me. It looked like
a mask. He had, too, a most singular voice, with a very impressive
style of utterance. After 1868, by which time my three elder
brothers were all in the House of Commons, and Disraeli himself
was Prime Minister, he was a more frequent visitor at our house.

In 1865 my uncle, Lord John Russell, my mother's brother, was
Prime Minister. My uncle, who had been born as far back as 1792,
was a very tiny man, who always wore one of the old-fashioned,
high black-satin stocks right up to his chin. I liked him, for he