me, I'll take another turn; to walk off the restless excitement is the
only hope left for me."

And crossing his hands behind him, honest JOHN was off again, down the
corridor, his red necktie gleaming in the further recesses like the
lurid light of battle.

_Business done_.--Tithes Bill through Report stage.

_Wednesday_.--Marriage with Deceased Wife's Sister Bill on again. A
hardy annual, carefully cultured in Commons, and regularly nipped
in Lords. The speeches to-day naturally did not present any features
riotously novel. HALL of Oxford (not the University, but the Brewery)
seconded Motion for rejection of Bill. A beautiful speech, I thought,
full of touching sentiments, delivered with much unction. His plea for
the sanctity of sisterhood brought tears into eyes unused to excessive
moisture. Didn't seem to have much to do with the Bill, but very
touching.

"Like evening bells," I said to the Member for Sark.

"More like a barrel-organ," he responded, gruffly. "HALL has the
oratorical manner of a street-preacher, and the emptiness of a tankard
that a thirsty porter has held to his lips for sixty seconds. Like a
skilfully-drawn glass of his own four-half, he's mostly froth; only,
after all, there's something under the froth in the glass of 'HALL's
Hextra,' and there's nothing beneath the sound of HALL's ambitious
common-places."

[Illustration: Hirsute Hints for Lord Randolph; or, the Art of