Two members of the House, Hon. Edward Blake and Sir Richard Cartwright, were not “good mixers.” It is said of the former that when friend remonstrated with him for his chilliness towards his supporters and advised him to be more chummy with them, he asked what he was to do. “Why, be more sociable and crack a joke or two with them.” “How do you mean?” enquired Blake. “Well, for instance, it’s snowing out now, and if someone should pass a remark on the weather, you say ‘Oh, it’s snow matter.’ ” And sure enough a few days later a good Grit follower overtaking the Honorable Edward on the broad walk remarked that it had been snowing hard. Mr. Blake, suddenly remembering the pointer he had received about cracking a joke, but having forgotten the cue, promptly replied, “Oh, it’s quite immaterial.” Mr. Blake was a great lawyer—a much greater lawyer than he was a politician. When Hansard “Mixed” Metaphors. Sir Richard was a past-master of the art of invective; a scholarly speaker, his English was perfect, and he could flay a political opponent in five minutes by the clock. He also had a grim sense of humor, and when he spoke one day of “having dipped into the political Styx,” and it appeared in the unrevised edition of _Hansard_ as “having dipped into the political Stinks,” he laughed as immoderately as he did when in another speech he referred to “the ancient Themistocles,” which _Hansard_ transformed into “The ancient Peter Mitchell,” who had just previously passed away. He was a Tory of the old school until Sir Francis Hincks was appointed Finance Minister instead of another person whom he thought was better qualified for the position. A scholarly speaker and a deep thinker, his disposition was vitriolic. The second volume of his _Memoirs_ was never printed for obvious reasons. Sir Richard was a constant sufferer from rheumatism which doubtless warped his disposition and made his utterances so bitter. Some of the Other Good Fellows.