export of Irish cattle! Foot-and-mouth disease at Ballyhellion. I see Pallant's idea!'
The House was certainly all mouth for the moment, but, as I could feel, quite in earnest. A Minister with a piece of typewritten paper seemed to be fending off volleys of insults. He reminded me somehow of a nervous huntsman breaking up a fox in the face of rabid hounds.
'It's question-time. They're asking questions,' said Ollyett. 'Look! Pallant's up.
There was no mistaking it. His voice, which his enemies said was his one parliamentary asset, silenced the hubbub as toothache silences mere singing in the ears. He said:
'Arising out of that, may I ask if any special consideration has recently been shown in regard to any suspected outbreak of this disease on this side of the Channel?'
He raised his hand; it held a noon edition of The Bun. We had thought it best to drop the paragraph out of the later ones. He would have continued, but something in a grey frock-coat roared and bounded on a bench opposite, and waved another Bun. It was Sir Thomas Ingell.
'As the owner of the herd so dastardly implicated' His voice was drowned in shouts of 'Order!'—the Irish leading.
'What's wrong?' I asked Ollyett. 'He's got his hat on his head, hasn't he?'
'Yes, but his wrath should have been put as a question.'
'Arising out of that, Mr. Speaker, Sirrr!' Sir Thomas bellowed through a lull, 'are you aware
