Toby, M.P.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVII, Issue 22, 1 December 1906, Page 21

Toby, M.P.

SOME STORIES OF MR H. W LUCY, THE GREAT PARLIAMENTARY JOURNALIST. Mr Henry W. Lucy, “the member for Barkshire,” is one of the three of four journalists everybody knows, remarks a writer in a Home paper. For very nearly forty years he lias been chronicling the doings of Parliament in a manner that has endeared him to the public and made him the friend of every M.P., from the doyen of the House to the most recently elected member. Henry W. Lucy is by birth a "Dicky Sam”—otherwise a Liverpudlian— and ho began his career of usefulness by becoming an office boy in the employ of A worthy hide merchant in the bustling city on the Mersey.

Mr Luey tells many stories about those early days. The funniest of them centre round a horse which his employer used to ride to office every day. To the youthful but enterprising Luey was assigned the task of looking after the bodily comforts of this beast. He had to take her to a near-by stable, where she was put up until she was wanted in the evening. Friday was a day of joy for him, for being market day, the horse had not bccu taken to the stable, but was supposed to be walked quietly up and down tha street during the time the hide merchant was reading his letters. This duty completed, he eaine out and >ode off to the market.

Now the wideawake Luey used to take a good look at the stock of letters, and soon learned to judge to a nicety the time that would be taken in open ing and dealing with them. This time he used to put in riding up and down and round about, always taking care to be quietly leading the "gee-gee" when his master appeared. One day when Luey and the horse appeared, there was no hide merchant. It appeared the merchant received a sudden call almost as soon as he get inside the office. He ran downstairs, but his horse had disappeared, and, as might be expected, trouble ensued. Though he was often in hot water for youthful pranks, young Lucy stayed at the office for a considerable time. There was, however, gradually growing within him a desire to become a journalist—an editor, if possible—but a journalist without a doubt. With this idea in his head he taught himself shorthand and wrote continually. His first contribution to be- accepted by any journal was a poetical effort that the "Liverpool Mercury” published.

“The “sub” of the “Daily Post” v... 0 gave Mr Lucy his first chance, is now Sir Edward Russell, the chief proprietor and editor of the “Liverpool Daily Post and Mercury.” It was while engaged on this paper that young Lucy began to show his mettle. Besides his office work he began to write articles on heavy subjects for various papers, and in addition started a newsagency for supplying some of the London papers with new paragraphs which alone brought him in about £3OO a year. ■ He has always been art extraordinary worker, and to-day he turns out nine columns of Parliamentary gossip for a newspaper, his “Essence of Parliament” 'for “Punch,” and a certain amount of magazine work every week. All his work is dictated to a shorthand writer, and this has been the ease for over 20 years—in fact, ever since he met with an accident which prevented his using his pen for some time. Mr Lucy has some delightful tales to tell of his early journalistic experiences. One story in particular Mr Luey is very fond of telling concerns an Jri>h policeman who was stationed on tne main road leading into Dublin to prevent motorists travelling towards the city at excessive speed. The first motor car came past at 20 miles an hour. "Oh.” said the policeman, making no attempt to stop it. Within a few moments a second ear came by, this one travelling at 25 miles an hour. “Ah!” said the policeman, in evident delight. Presently along came a third car. and vanished in a cloud of dust at 35 miles an hour. "Be jabers!” exclaimed the "bobby,” “that’s the best of the Jot!” It was iu a balloon that Mr Luey first met the late Colonel Burnaby, the hero of the ride to Khiva, who died fighting with an Arab spear in his throat. Both Luey and Burnaby were in the baloon party, and when at an altituda of over a thousand feet above the earth their host introduced them. From that moment they became the closest of friends. Mr Luey describes with great zest how one Jay Burnaby carried twq ponies, one under each arm, down the stairs at Windsor Castle, a feat of strength which very soon reached the ears of Queen Victoria, who was a great admirer of the intrepid soldier.