Why is it one clings to some genial old scamp? Why is it one sticks to a worn-out old gamp? Why is it, despite my relief, I feel drawn To that hard high-backed Chair I so long sat upon? Long, long through the hours, and the night, and the chimes Have I sat, yawned and ached in the tiresome old times, When faction and fog filled the House, and for me The Chamber was pitiless pur-ga-to-ree! Now comfort and quiet will gladden my rest, And tedium no longer will torture my breast, For that finest of Seats ever padded with hair I am going to exchange for my own Easy Chair! If Chairs had but speech it would whisper alarms To him who's next clasped in its stuffy old arms. How long there _I_ languished, and lolled in despair-- Till I wished myself wood like the rest of "the Chair!" A decade and more since I first filled the place![A] There's many a form and there's many a face Have vanished since I donned the wig of grey hair, And sat and looked stately, at ease in that Chair. Men say I have honoured that Chair ever since, With the poise of a judge and the mien of a prince. Perhaps! But I'm weary, and glad, I declare, To make now a change to my own Easy Chair. When the candles burn low, and the company's gone, In the silence of night I shall sit here alone, Or with you, _Mr. Punch_, many-memoried pair, And muse on old days in that high Speaker's Chair! Eh? What, _Mr. Punch?_ Read me last night's debate? Oho! Order! Order!! I'm drowsy, 'tis late. For Ayes and for Noes, _Punch_, no more need I care; I may take forty winks in my own Easy Chair! [_Left taking 'em._ * Mr. ARTHUR WELLESLEY PEEL was elected Speaker at the opening of the Session of 1884, upon the retirement of Sir HENRY BRAND. * * * * * ANCIENT CUSTOM.--"A quaint practice exists" at the Episcopal Palace, Fulham, "of waking up the domestics by means of a long pole." "Stirring them up," apparently, as the keepers do the beasts at the Zoo. _The Sun_ reminds us of the existence of "_rousing staves_" for waking sleepers in church. About Regatta time riparian dwellers are frequently disturbed in their slumbers by "rousing staves," which, however, are sung by jolly young watermen, canoeists and house-boaters. * * * * * [Illustration: RETIREMENT; OR, THE EASY CHAIR. MR. P. "WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO READ YOU LAST NIGHT'S DEBATE, SIR?" RT. HON. ARTHUR WELLESLEE PEEL (_drowsily_). "ORDER! ORDER!!" ["The original arrangement that Mr. PEEL shall retire on the eve of the Easter holidays still holds good."--_Times, March 16._]] * * * * * [Illustration: "WELL, HOW DID THE NEW PLAY GO OFF LAST NIGHT?" "OH, THERE WAS A SLEEP-WALKING SCENE IN THE THIRD ACT THAT WAS RATHER EFFECTIVE." "_À LA LADY MACBETH_, EH?" "WELL--NOT EXACTLY. IT WAS THE AUDIENCE THAT GOT UP IN ITS SLEEP AND WALKED OUT!"] * * * * *