CHAPTER II.
THE HOME RULE BILL.
[Sidenote: I remember.] When I saw Mr.Gladstone take his seat in the House of Commons on February 13th, I was irresistibly reminded of two scenes in my memory.
One took place in Cork some twelve years ago.

Mr.Parnell had made his entry into the city, and the occasion was one of a triumph such as an Emperor might have envied.

The streets were impassable with crowds; every window had its full contingent; the people had got on the roofs.
It almost seemed, as one of Mr.Parnell's friends and supporters declared, as if every brick were a human face.

Men shouted themselves hoarse; young women waved their handkerchiefs till their arms must have ached; old women rushed down before the horses of the great Leader's carriage, and kissed the dust over which he passed.

And, then, when it was all over, Mr.Parnell had to sit in a small room, listening to the complaints and most inconvenient cross-questionings of an extremely pragmatical supporter, who would have been an affliction to any man from the intensity and tenacity of his powers of boring.