"But it does sit there, doesn't it!" "It? What? The Parliament of the People? No, sir; that sits, if you would believe certain organs of the press, up a court in Fleet Street, where it discusses the affairs of the nation over screws of shag tobacco and pots of fourpenny ale. What sits there before us is the Croesus Club, a select assemblage of between six and seven hundred members, who drop down here to levy taxes and job generally in the interval between dinner and bed." "Are they--are they there now?" asked Joyce eagerly, peering with outstretched neck at the building before him. "Now? No, of course not, man! They're away at their own devices, nine-tenths of them breaking the laws which they helped to make, and all enjoying themselves, and wondering what the devil people find to grumble at!" "One of the governors of the old school, down, down at Helmingham"--a large knot swelled in Joyce's throat as he said the word, and nearly choked him; never before had he felt the place so far away or the days spent there so long removed from his then life--"was a member of Parliament, I think. Lord Beachcroft. Did you ever hear of him?" The old man smiled sardonically. "Hear of him, man? There's not one of them that has made his mark, or that is likely to make his mark in any way, that I don't know by sight, or that I haven't heard speak. I know Lord Beachcroft well enough; he's a philanthropist, wants camphorated chalk tooth-powder for the paupers, and horse-exercise for the convicts. Registered among the noodles, ranks A1, weakly built, leaden-headed, and wants an experienced keeper!" "That doctrine would have been taken as heresy at Helmingham! I know he came there once on our speech-day to deliver the prizes, and the boys all cheered him to the echo!" "The boys! of course they did! The child is father to the man! I forgot, people don't read Wordsworth nowadays, but that's what he says, and he and Tennyson are the only poet-philosophers that have risen amongst us for many years; and boys shout, as men would, at the mere sight, at the mere taste of a lord! How they like to roll your 'lordship' round their mouths, and fear lest they should lose the slightest atom of its flavour! Not that the boys did wrong in cheering Lord Beachcroft! He's harmless enough, and well-meaning, I'm sure, and stands well up among the noodles. And it's better to stand anywhere amongst them than to be affiliated to the other party!" "The other party? Who are they, Mr. Byrne?"