"I didn't know _I_ was to have a Party at all," said ALICE. "Parties
are things I don't hold with, as a rule; too great a tax and a tie. I
like my freedom, _I_ do. But, if I _am_ to have one, I think _I_ ought
to invite the guests."
"ALICE of Thunderland, you require some lessons in manners," the White
Queen remarked.
"Manners are not taught in lessons," said ALICE. "Lessons teach _some_
people to do sums, and things of that sort."
"Can you do addition?" the Red Queen asked scornfully of the White.
("Bah, she can't do sums a _bit_!" she added, aside.)
"She is doubtless better at _Division_," interposed ALICE,
significantly.
"Divide a State by a Statutory Parliament," said the Red Queen, with a
derisive wink. "What's the right answer to that?"
"Much the same as dividing a Nation by an indefinite number of
Councils," retorted the White Queen, smartly. "Talk about _tu
quoques_, there's one for you!"
"Oh, as for that," rejoined the Red Queen, sniffing, "try another
subtraction sum! Take a Grand Old Leader from a 'Party' of discredited
'Items,' and what would remain?"
"Why, a Policy, of course," replied the White Queen. "And another
Leader," she added, _sotto voce_. "Here's another for _you_," she
pursued, aloud. "Take a Liberal-Unionist Tail from a Radical 'Rat,'
what would remain then?"
"I suppose _you_ think _nothing_ would remain," sneered the Red Queen.
"Wrong, as usual," said the White Queen; "the Rat's nasty temper would
remain."
"But I don't see how!"
"Why, look here," the White Queen cried; "the Rat would lose its
temper with its 'tail,' wouldn't it?"
"Perhaps it would," ALICE replied, cautiously.
"Then, if the 'Rat' went away from its 'Tail,' its temper would
remain," the White Queen exclaimed.
ALICE said, as gravely as she could. "They might go different
ways--the 'Rat,' the 'Tail,' and the 'Temper.'" But she couldn't help
thinking to herself, "What dreadful nonsense we _are_ talking!"
* * * * *
THE ONLY ONE.--A ready-penning writer in his _Daily Graphic_ notice of
doings in the Houses of Parliament, winds up his description of giving
the Royal Assent to Bills in the Upper House with these words--"_So
ends the ceremony, which seems to take one away from the Nineteenth
Century_"--a little sum in subtraction--i.e., take one away from
the Nineteenth Century, and the Eighteenth Century remains; but to
continue--"_back to the days of the Edwards and the Henrys_." But why
go back to any other century than the "so-called Nineteenth"? Isn't it
only a very few years ago that _the_ EDWARDS, the singular HENRY with
plural surname of EDWARDS, sat for Weymouth? What other HENRYS or
EDWARDS could ever occur to any well-conditioned Parliamentary scribe?
* * * * *