[Illustration: AN EMBARRASSING QUESTION. "WHY HAVE YOU GOT SUCH A BARE NECK, MUMMIE?" "I'M GOING TO A DANCE, DARLING. ONE _HAS_ TO DRESS LIKE THIS FOR A DANCE!" "DO THE LADIES DANCE IN ONE ROOM, AND THE GENTLEMEN IN ANOTHER, MUMMIE?"] * * * * * THE PREMIER'S CRUISE. _Portsmouth, Monday._--Thank heaven! Got rid of politics for a season. Off to Cowes, as guest of SPENCER, on board _Enchantress_. Admirable institution, an Admiralty yacht; reconciles one to Naval Estimates, almost. But there!--must _not_ think of Estimates now. Must try and remember this is a holiday, to get ozone and sleep--especially sleep. _Cowes._--SPENCER really _very_ nautical. Talks of fast cruisers and water-tube boilers all the time. Great on torpedo-destroyers. Says the _Havoc_ "goes twenty-five knots an hour." Well then, why can't HARCOURT get up the same pace with our Bills? Wish he'd turn into a Parliamentary _Havoc_. Mention this to SPENCER, who laughs, and says, "It's the Opposition who indulge in twenty-five Nots an hour." Believe SPENCER means it as a joke. Turn in, and think of HARCOURT and SPENCER'S joke and Twin-Screw Cabinets and Water-veto-boiler Bills. Wretched night! _Portland, Tuesday Morning._--Rather unfair of SPENCER. Now he's got me safely on board, he's always trying to persuade me that Navy wants more money spent on it. More money! Refer him to HARCOURT, the "inexorable _Jorkins_." Try to hide from SPENCER. No good. He finds me behind a coil of rope on half-quarter-deck--_is_ it half-quarter-deck? Not sure, and don't like to ask--and begins again. Seems he would like a few more millions for guns. Thought we had heaps of guns. Talks about a ship he calls _The Hecckler_. What a name! Reminds me of every political meeting I've ever attended. Why will Lords of Admiralty give such names? SPENCER explains--seems it's _Hecla_, not _Hecckler_. Oh! All right. Fear SPENCER begins to think me rather a land-lubber. Got me at an advantage here. Wait till I take him to Newmarket Heath! _Off Plymouth._--Down in engine-room. Tell head stoker that House of Lords is an effete institution. Stoker winks. _Can_ he be a Tory? Tell him it's a "gilded prison." Stoker seems surprised, and asks, "Why I don't chuck it up, then?" Curious--no repartee handy. And I am so good at them, generally. Must consult "_Fridoline_," _traduit de l'Anglais de "Happy Thoughts,"_ to see what would be a "repartee to a stoker." Bed. SPENCER won't hear of it as bed; talks of "turning-in to his bunk." What an enthusiastic "First Lord" SPENCER does make! Thinking of First Lord, wonder who'll be Last Lord? Go on wondering till dawn. What a noise swabbing the deck makes! Wish I were back at the Durdans!