No one wishing to challenge this proposition, it is formally put and carried, with faint cheering. The president then rises: “Does any honourable member wish to put any question to the officers of this society relative to their official duties?” At least a dozen members rise in different parts of the room--we beg pardon--the House. A red-headed young gentleman, with spectacles, catches first the president’s eye, and is put in possession of the House. His voice is high and shrill. “Sir--” “Hear! hear!” from several facetious members encouragingly. “Sir--I wish to ask the honourable treasurer--(loud cries of ‘Speak up, sir’)--I wish to ask the honourable treasurer--” “Hear! hear!” from a stentorian voice in one corner. “Order! order!” “Sir,” again resumes the luckless red-headed inquirer, “I--I--have lost my umbrella. I--I--put it in the stand on Wednesday evening--(‘Hear! hear!’)--on my way to--to--the smoking-room, and--and--and--it was not there when I came back.” And the speaker drops into his seat. The treasurer takes no notice, but the president rises and says:--“I must remind the honourable member that any statement he may have to make must be introduced or followed by a question.” The owner of the lost umbrella rises, and before he has opened his mouth is told to “speak up.” This time he does speak up, in very shrillness: “I wish to ask the honourable treasurer whether he will take some steps for the recovery of my umbrella.” The treasurer is a stout youth, short of speech and of stature. He clips his sentences: “I must remind the honourable member that this society is not a police institution. I regret the loss of his umbrella. I regret still more that there are members in this society so careless or so dishonest as to remove umbrellas not belonging to them.” “Sir”--from another corner--“I consider the answer of the honourable treasurer most unsatisfactory. I now beg to ask him whether he will take steps to prevent the robbery--(‘Oh! oh!’)--yes--robbery of the property of members of this society.” The treasurer is again on his legs: “In answer to the last honourable member, I beg to say that as far as I know anything of the funds of this society, it is not in a position to pay for policemen to guard the umbrellas of honourable members. If honourable members value their umbrellas, I should recommend them to leave them in the steward’s room, or carry them with them into whichever of the society’s rooms they may go.” “Sir”--from another quarter--“will you move for a committee of inquiry into the loss of umbrellas and other property?” (Loud cheers.) By this time the treasurer is white-hot:--“No, sir!” and he flumps into his chair--(loud cheers from the treasurer’s partisans and from the admirers of his doggedness). He is not, however, yet done with. “I beg to ask the honourable treasurer,” says a grimy-looking youth, “why there are so few nail-brushes in the lavatory?” (Roars of laughter.)