With sturdy Northern resolution, Mr. Biggar in the last hour of the sitting of the House of Commons yesterday, assailed and defeated the Threshing Machines Bill. If your readers ask me why Mr. Biggar defeated the Threshing Machines Bill, I really must confess my inability to inform them. Perhaps it was that the Bill was proposed by Mr. Chaplin, and perhaps Mr. Biggar wished to punish Mr. Chaplin for his attack on Mr. Gladstone. It was a daring thing to do – I mean it was daring in one to get up with the knowledge that you must talk for a half an hour on Threshing Machines. But Mr. Biggar triumphed. Once or twice I really fancied all was over with the hon. member. He, to all appearance, had exhausted every possible branch of his subject, and Mr. Chaplin was already chuckling in anticipation of the break-down of his foe. But no! Mr. Biggar bethought him of "the old flail". It was a moment of inspiration. Who could not talk for fifteen minutes on " the old flail". A groan of mortal anguish escaped Mr. Chaplin as, in eloquently rounded periods, the honourable member for Cavan turned over, ogled, turned over again, and genially touched upon the beauties of flails. At length the hour struck. Mr. Biggar sank down victorious, and Mr. Chaplin rushed in anger from the House.