They have a rough notion of fun in the City.
Two of the can- didates, Mr. Goschen and Baron Rothschild, chance to have German names, just as many of our best members have French names, and Mr. Bell, a Tory candidate, thinks it witty to say he will not mention them because their own mothers would not recognize them in his mouth. Thereupon, Mr. Alfred Rothschild retorts that his father is known to all electors, but "nobody ever heard a tinkle from this little bell before." The crowd laughed consumedly at both hits, a pun on an adversary's name being just the sort of joke a mob understands, and conveying just that -soupcon of insult without which the British rough sees no point in the finest jest ; but the City is usually rather proud of the decorum of its elections. Mr. Bell, we suppose, must be held excused on account of the ignorance of which he boasted,—and he has a great deal to boast of,—but Mr. Alfred Rothschild, of all men, ought to have remembered Solomon's command, "Answer not a fool according to his folly." Mr. Bell, we perceive, says the master evil of Ireland is landlordism, a remark which had at least the merit of disinterestedness, seeing that some of the greatest Ian dlords in Ireland are the London corporations.
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