on the same plan. The members of parliament keep their hats on, but
the spectators in the gallery are uncovered.

The members of the House of Commons have nothing particular in their
dress. They even come into the House in their great coats, and with
boots and spurs. It is not at all uncommon to see a member lying
stretched out on one of the benches while others are debating. Some
crack nuts, others eat oranges, or whatever else is in season.
There is no end to their going in and out; and as often as any one
wishes to go out, he places himself before the Speaker, and makes
him his bow, as if, like a schoolboy, he asked tutor's permission.

Those who speak seem to deliver themselves with but little, perhaps
not always with even a decorous, gravity. All that is necessary is
to stand up in your place, take off your hat, turn to the Speaker
(to whom all the speeches are addressed), to hold your hat and stick
in one hand, and with the other to make any such motions as you
fancy necessary to accompany your speech.

If it happens that a member rises who is but a bad speaker, or if
what he says is generally deemed not sufficiently interesting, so
much noise is made, and such bursts of laughter are raised, that the
member who is speaking can scarcely distinguish his own words. This
must needs be a distressing situation; and it seems then to be
particularly laughable, when the Speaker in his chair, like a tutor
in a school, again and again endeavours to restore order, which he
does by calling out "To order, to order," apparently often without
much attention being paid to it.

On the contrary, when a favourite member, and one who speaks well