TOBY, M.P.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXV, Issue 1976, 11 January 1907, Page 4

TOBY, M.P.

'Mr Henry W. Lucy, “the liieinber for Barksluro,” is one of tile throe or four journalists everybody knows, remarks a writer in a Home paper. For very nearly forty years ho has 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 \V. Lucy is by birth a “Dicky SollV”—pthonviso a. Liverpudlian—and he began his career of usefulness by becoming an oflice boy in the employ of a worthy hide merchant in the bustling city on the Mersey. Mr Lucy tells many stories about . those early days. The funniest of thorn centre round a horse which ' bis employer used to ride to office every day. To the youthful but enterprising Lucy 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 being taken to the stable, but was supposed to he walked quietly up and down the street during the time the hide merchant was reading his letters. This duty completed, he came out and rode off to the market. Now the wideawake Lucy 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 opening and dealing with them. This time he used to put in riding up and down and around about, always taking care to be quietly leading the “gee-gee” when his master appeared. One day when Lucy and the horse appeared, there was no hide merchant. It appeared the merchant received a sudden call almost as soon as he got inside the office. . He ran downstairs, hut his horse had disappeared, and, as might bo 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 hecome a journalist —an editor, it possible —lint a journalist without a doubt. . With this idea in his head he taught himself shorthand and wrote continually. His first contribution to he accepted by any journal was a poetical eilort that the “Liverpool Mercury” published. “The ‘sub’ of the ‘Daily Post,’ who 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 liis 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 news paragraphs which alone brought him in about £3OO a year. Ho has always been an extraordinary worker, and to-day lie 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 lias been the case 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 Lucy is very fond of telling concerns au Irish policeman who was stationed on the 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, "Dli,” said the policeman, making no attempt to stop it. Within a few minutes a second car 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 lot!*’

It was in a balloon that Mr Lucy first met the late Colonel Burnaby, the hero of the ride to Khiva, who died fighting with an Arab spear in his throat. Both Lucy and Burnaby were in the ba.ljoqn party, and when at an attitude of over a thousand feet above the earth their host introduced them. From that moment they became the closest of friends, mr Lucy describes with great zest how one day Burnaby carried two 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 tho intrepid soldier!