_Friday._--Everyone grieved to hear that SPEAKER has temporarily lost use of voice. Been absent from Chair since Tuesday. "How inscrutable are the ways of Providence," says the Member for Sark. "There are so many quarters of the House where the outbreak of such an epidemic would be a public service. Yet these escape, and only the Chair is attacked." [Illustration: Sir Richard Parrot.] The House can ill spare the SPEAKER, even for a day. The whole atmosphere of the place, the tone of debate, are altered when his stately presence and commanding influence are withdrawn. Still, talk must go on, and there has been no lack of it to-night. But everyone is wearied to death of the monotony and reiteration. As PRINCE ARTHUR says in a moment of confidence, "If it were the only alternative, one would rather have a parish funeral than another Parish Councils Bill." _Business done._--Nothing worth speaking of. * * * * * THE COUNTY COUNCIL'S PROGRESSIVE PROGRAMME. Rise at seven. Called by public bell rung at the nearest fire-brigade station. Light gas supplied from the Council's works at Beckton. Drink glass of cold water from Council's new reservoir in the Kennet Valley. Hurriedly slip into clothes made by gentlemen working an eight hours day at not less than sixpence an hour. Fish for breakfast bought at Council's Billingsgate Market; eggs from Council's hens (warranted _very fresh_); also fruit from Covent Garden sold by Council's salesmen. We keep no servants, being now obliged to use their wages to pay rates. Compelled to open the front door myself. Surveyor of Chimneys, acting on instructions (received from sweep), calls to examine flues. Reports them foul, and notes me in his summons book. Council's revenue inspector (Inland Revenue absorbed) peeping through half-opened breakfast-room door, spies what my children call "a duck on stilts" engraved on a fork. Reports me at once for not having a license to use armorial bearings. Find in letter-box notice of compulsory purchase by Council for "allotment purposes" of a choice piece of land belonging to me just on border of county. Am privately informed that Radical Labourers' League have moved half-a-dozen good-for-nothing drunken chaps to apply for allotments! Mine is the only land that will suit them, and they intend to take it whether I like it or no.