For the third day in succession Mr. T. P. O'CONNOR essayed to move the adjournment in order to call attention to what he called "the policy of frightfulness" in Ireland. This time the SPEAKER accepted the motion, but the ensuing debate was of the usual inconclusive kind. Mr. DEVLIN gave another exhibition of stage-fury. He objected to the word "reprisals" being used for the "infamies" going on in Ireland, declared that the Government were responsible for all the murders and prophesied that the present CHIEF SECRETARY, "with all his outward appearance of great masculinity," would fail, as BALFOUR and CROMWELL--the House enjoyed this concatenation--had failed before him. In points of detail Sir HAMAR GREENWOOD conceded a little more to his critics than on some former occasions. He undertook to consider whether the Government should compensate the owners of creameries or other property wrongfully destroyed; and he admitted that some constables had exceeded their duty, nine of them being actually under arrest on various charges. But on the main point he was adamant. Quoting the remark of a police-sergeant at Tralee, "They have declared war upon us and I suppose war it must be," the CHIEF SECRETARY said in his most emphatic tones, "War it will be until assassination stops." [Illustration: "Old Mother Goose was delighted when she saw what a fine bird her son had provided her with." WALES AND SIR A. GRIFFITH-BOSCAWEN.] * * * * * STUTTFIELD AND THE REDS. Stuttfield was nothing of a NERO. He would never have fiddled while Rome burned. He would have been more likely to imagine that Rome was burning when there was really nothing more going on than a bonfire. He is one more example of the pernicious influence of sensational literature upon a nervous temperament. It all began through Stuttfield finding a copy of _The Daily Blast_ in a railway carriage last June. This journal is printed on white paper, but the tendency of its contents is ruddy--that is to say, it has "Red" leanings. It was a revelation to Stuttfield. "Are people _allowed_ to say such things?" he asked me in horror. "My dear fellow, no one takes it seriously," I said. "Don't you worry." But Stuttfield did worry. _The Daily Blast_ had the same effect upon him as a snake has upon a rabbit; it terrified him, yet he could not run away from it. In fact he became a regular subscriber and continued so despite some rumours that it was supported financially by the Rougetanians--rumours which required, and received, a great deal of explanation. Then, through the offices of his man-servant, he obtained a copy of _The Volcano_. _The Volcano_ appears to be in advance of _The Daily Blast_ in its ideals, and immensely so in their expression. But here again I assured Stuttfield that no one took them seriously. "I don't suppose they take themselves seriously," I assured him. "They want to sell _The Volcano_, that's all."