A SPECTATOR'S NOTEBOOK
THE first day of Parliament, I gather frcm a new Member who was there, was marked by unusual ebullience. The immense Labour contingent which much more than filled the Ministerial benches was obviously ready for anything, and the misplaced zeal of Some Opposition songster who started " For He's a Jolly Good Fellow " immediately elicited " The Red Flag " in three times the volume from the benches opposite. The performance hardly chimed with the dignity of the House of Commons, but it all happened while a packed House was waiting to be summoned to the House of Lords, and had nothing to occupy it except conversation. The atmosphere changed completely and immediately as soon as there was serious business—to wit, the election of a Speaker—to be done. For once the House had the opportunity of hearing the Speaker speak, an opportunity which occurs about as often as the aloe flowers. Very admirably did Mr. Neil Maclean propose the election of a political opponent, and even more admirably did Col. Clifton Brown, before ascending the chair of silence, return thanks in a speech devoted to imbuing the new Members, who compose full half the House, with the spirit and traditions of the greatest legislative assembly in the world. Nothing could have been more judicious, more encouraging or more friendly. The temper of the House is a fluctuating thing, and there may be violent fluctuations before this session is over. But the start, once a little superfluous exhilaration had boiled itself away, was quite as auspicious as could be hoped.
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