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The Prime Minister was at his comfortable best when he got slowly to his feet, leaned heavily on the dispatch box and observed like a true John Bull: "I don't think there was any Fascism in Italy before Communism began. The same thing was true of Germany. Force begot force, as it always does. In this country, thank God, these two forces are not worth that together!"—here Mr. Baldwin snapped his fingers. "A curious feature," he continued, "is that at this moment in England we are reversing the process of Italy and Germany, and the petty efforts of the Fascists are making Communists. We will take jolly good care that neither of them will take root!"
It was wholly in vain that the high-strung leader of His Majesty's Loyal Opposition, Laborite Major Clement Attlee, barked like a terrier at St. Bernard Baldwin: "The Mediterranean has been abandoned to the Fascist State! The Far East has been abandoned to Japan! What is left? The policy of this Government has not brought us nearer to Peace, but closer and closer to War!"
When a Labor M. P. asked whether, "in view of the great public interest," a newsreel could be made of Parliament in action, the Prime Minister growled, "No, Sir!"
"I, Me, My!" King George employed the pronouns "we" "us" and "our" in addressing his Lords and Commons, but King Edward insisted upon "I," "me" and "my" in the Speech from the Throne proroguing Parliament, which was read last week, in the absence of His Majesty, by the Earl of Onslow.
Before there were even rumors in the United Kingdom that Edward VIII might marry Mrs. Simpson, His Majesty last spring obtained from the House of Commons the passage of a bill under which his spouse will receive $200,000 per year. In what was considered an allusion by the King to this, the Speech from the Throne declared: "Members of the House of Commons, I thank you for the arrangements you have made for the maintenance of the honor and dignity of the Crown!"
Main Roads & The League. Eight black horses borrowed, as usual, from a brewery were ready to draw the King's State Coach to the opening of Parliament this week and His Majesty's valet had laid out an admiral's uniform over which he was to wear a great royal black and crimson mantle. Abruptly Edward VIII, giving the excuse that it had started to rain cancelled all the traditional British pageantry, popped into a motor car and whisked off to Whitehall through what United Press reported as "a lack of crowds considered unprecedented."