Curious instance of association of ideas and sympathy.  So completely is mind of Her Majesty’s Ministers occupied with this Fog problem, that to-night it got into House of Commons.  LORD ADVOCATE brought in Bill allocating Scotch Local Taxation grant.  Debate went on for six hours; at end of that time discovered that whole proceedings irregular.  As involving money question, introduction of Bill should have been preceded by Resolution submitted to Committee of whole House.  Debate abruptly adjourned; evening wasted; howls of derision from Radicals.

“Never mind,” said Prince ARTHUR, cheerily.  “Let those laugh who win.  This is only another argument (perhaps not so accidental and undesigned as people think) in support of our new Fog policy.”

Business done.—­Night wasted in Commons.  In Lords, light looms behind the Fog.

Friday.—­News of Mr. G. speeding home over land and sea.  All his friends on Front Bench been begging him to stay longer in the Sunny South.  No need whatever for his return; things going on admirably; not missed in the least; shocking weather here; better stay where he is.

“Ho, indeed!” said Mr. G., pricking up his ears and a dangerous light flashing under his eyebrows.  “I’m not wanted, ain’t I?  SQUIRE OF MALWOOD getting along admirably in my shoes; doing well without me; not missed in the slightest.  Very well, then; I’ll go home.”

MACLURE, who has been in the confidence of great statesmen from DIZZY downward, tells me Mr. G.’s homeward flight was hastened by curious dream.  Dreamt all his sheep were straying from fold; some going one way, others another; each bent on his own particular business.  In vain Mr. G. leaping up and taking crook in hand, put hand to mouth and halloed them back to Home-Rule fold.  They went their way, some even making for Unionist encampment, where Mr. G., moving heavily in his slumber, distinctly saw one sheep regarding scene through an eyeglass.

“Only a dream of course,” Mr. G. said, when he set off in the morning for a twenty-mile walk.  “But I think I may as well be getting back.  Made up for the Session; fit for anything.  Nothing could have been kinder or more watchful than Nurse RENDEL’S care of me; if I had been his son (which I admit is chronologically difficult), couldn’t have been better done to.  Only concerned just now for ARMITSTEAD.  That young fellow, proud of his chickenhood of sixty-seven years, brought me out to take care of me, and freshen me up.  Fancy I’ve worn him out; instead of his taking care of me, have to look after him!  Shall be glad to get again within sound of Big Ben.  Spoiling for a fight.  HARCOURT done very well; but he’ll have to tuck in his tuppenny and let me over into the Leader’s place.”

Business done.—­Miscellaneous.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “PASSING IT ON.”

Rupert (just back from School, where he has been tremendously fagged).  “LOOK HERE, ANGY, IF YOU BEHAVE DECENTLY, AND DON’T SMASH ANYTHING, YOU SHALL FINISH THE JAM—­WHEN I’VE QUITE DONE!”]