[Sidenote: "Herr Schloss."]
But the House of Commons--as I have often remarked--is like a barometer
in the promptitude of its reflection of every momentary phase, and all
these things are duly discounted by old Parliamentary hands accustomed
to panics when a check comes to what has been a most successful campaign
on the whole. And in the meantime, if there had been any tendency to
disintegration, it was soon restored by the conduct of the Tories. For,
the old game of obstruction and vituperation went on just as strongly as
if no concession had been made, and no victory gained. The Monday night
had been reserved for a debate on the Evicted Tenants' Commission. And
Mr. T.W. Russell, brimful of notes and venom, sate in his place, as
impatient to rise as the captive and exuberant balloon which only strong
ropes and the knotted arms of men hold tight to mother earth. Jimmy,
however, has a passion for his ignoble calling; he sings at his work
like the gravedigger in "Hamlet." And before the inflated Russell was
able to explode, Jimmy had an hour or so to himself in the discussion
of Mr. Mundella's efforts to deal with labour. It was on this occasion
that Jimmy spread something like dismay in the bench on which he sate.
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